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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28386375">Never Did Run Smooth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairfaxleasee/pseuds/Fairfaxleasee'>Fairfaxleasee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Alistair/Amelia [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Apologies, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, First Meetings, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Meet-Cute, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:23:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>37,889</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28386375</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairfaxleasee/pseuds/Fairfaxleasee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 1: Lady Amelia MacTir arrives at Ostigar, has no idea what she's supposed to be doing there, and meets an irrationally optimistic (if somewhat charming) man named Alistair.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alistair &amp; Morrigan (Dragon Age), Alistair &amp; Sten (Dragon Age), Alistair (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Alistair/Original Female Character, Anora Mac Tir &amp; Original Female Character(s), Flemeth (Dragon Age) &amp; Original Female Character, Loghain Mac Tir &amp; Cailan Theirin, Loghain Mac Tir &amp; Original Female Character(s), Morrigan (Dragon Age) &amp; Original Female Character, Sten (Dragon Age) &amp; Original Female Character, Zevran Arainai &amp; Loghain Mac Tir, Zevran Arainai &amp; Male Mahariel, Zevran Arainai &amp; Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Alistair/Amelia [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141979</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ostagar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to @blondetexan, @paraparadigm (https://archiveofourown.org/users/paraparadigm), and @kosho for betaing for me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As she glanced around, Lady Amelia MacTir couldn’t help but feel completely ridiculous and entirely out of place.  To be fair, she usually felt at least slightly ridiculous or somewhat out of place anywhere except the archives or behind her cartographer’s desk, but this was full-blown ridiculous AND out of place.  She didn’t usually feel that unless she was being dragged around in her sister’s wake.  Anora was always able to have the right words, the right opinion, the right dress, the right hobbies, and the right friends.  And make it all look effortless.  Amelia considered herself lucky if she could make it through a meal without staining something because she hadn’t managed to wipe all the ink off her hands first or blurt out something that was 'entirely inappropriate for the dinner table,' at least according to her sister.  The rare times she saw her father at meals he didn't seem to hear anything she said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Most of the time she felt ridiculous because of how she looked and the clothes she was wearing.  Anora had always been the pretty one - she took after their mother.  Everyone said so.  Constantly.  And then they would eventually turn to Amelia and their faces would fall a bit and they’d manage to spout some meaningless nonsense about how she looked ‘smart’ or ‘nice.’  She still had no idea just how a person was supposed to look smart.  Amelia looked more like their father with slight differences.  They had the same pale complexion but Amelia’s face was round and her eyes were more prominent, although that might just have been because her nose and brow were less so.  Instead of their father’s smooth raven black hair, Amelia’s chestnut brown had a bit of a wave to it (and much more than a bit if it was humid) and her grey hazel eyes didn’t seem to come from anywhere.  So maybe she didn’t look like her father much either, but she definitely didn’t look like Anora.  She didn’t think she was particularly ugly, per se, but she definitely didn’t think she was pretty, and maybe when your sister was Queen anything short of pretty was ugly.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then there were her clothes.  With the exception of her riding gear and artist’s frocks, none of her clothes ever looked right.  Although that might have had something to do with the fact that almost all her other clothes had started out as Anora’s and were then adjusted to fit her.  She had no idea why, she and her sister were not remotely the same size.  She supposed she could ask about it, or ask for dresses of her own, but she wasn’t convinced that anything ever looked good even if it didn’t start off as a garment for someone who was already pretty so she could never justify the effort.  Easier to just stay with her books, or maps, or horse where no one would have to see her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The being out of place bit was mostly because she hadn’t managed to find any places, aside from the aforementioned archives and desk, where she wasn’t.  She supposed that she wasn’t when she was riding Tenor, but since she never rode anywhere in particular she thought of it as less not being out of place and more not being in any place, so it didn’t really count.  It was also a relatively new hobby.  Cailan had brought the horse back from Orlais, a gift from Empress Celene to her father.  She had no idea why the Empress thought it would go over at all well, and less of an idea why Cailan had actually delivered the Orlesian Courser or its pedigree documents (that made some of the Alamarri epic poems she was illuminating, after someone else transcribed them of course - being left-handed was a terrible trait in a calligrapher so she had quickly given that idea up), seem short.  Her father’s initial reaction to the gift was what anyone who knew him, or anything about him, should have predicted it would be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shoot it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia was almost positive he had been exaggerating... slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come now, Loghain!  He’s a perfectly fine horse.”  Cailan had the same vapid grin he always had when he was trying to charm his way into getting something he knew he shouldn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have plenty of fine </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ferelden</span>
  </em>
  <span> horses.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Father, you could just keep it in the stables.  There’s no reason to turn this into an incident; I really don’t think Celene means anything by it.” Anora couldn’t seem to decide whether she was more annoyed at her husband for delivering the gift, or their father for refusing it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Orlesians always mean something by it.  Now, if you’re not going to shoot it, at least get it out of my sight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So...we can send it to the stables then?”  Cailan gestured to one of the servants as he spoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NO!  I do not want any Orlesian horses!  You never know what it might be up to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a horse, Loghain.  I don’t think it’s up to anything.  Other than, you know, horse things.”  Cailan tried to hand the reins over to the servant, but her father snatched them away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do not want it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I have him?”  Amelia had been ignoring most of the conversation up to that point.  It wasn’t going to get anyone anywhere, so she hadn’t thought it was worth bothering about.   She had been more focused on the horse.  She wasn’t an expert in the animals by any means, but she thought Orlesian Coursers were usually dun, but Tenor was a striking blue roan and when she had gone over for a closer look, he had nuzzled at her hand and she decided she liked him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her father had looked at her and sighed before tossing the reins to her and turning away.  “Fine.  Just keep it somewhere out of the way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia had never had a horse before; she knew how to ride one - and she liked the animals - but she really wasn’t sure what owning one would entail, and didn’t have much of an idea how to go about it.  She had been surprised when her father had called her to the stables the next day and presented her with an assortment of items for her new horse: saddle, bridle, bit, combs, riding habit, boots, a new cloak.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So...um, what exactly do I do with all of this?”  She was holding the items in her arms, trying to keep any of them from falling, a bit of a trick given that her father had handed her the saddle first and it was precariously balanced over one of her arms.  Not to mention the pile was so high, she couldn’t see her father behind it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her father tossed a book on the top of the pile.  It slid down towards her and hit her on the forehead before sliding down her face and coming to rest on her breasts.  “You’re a smart girl, Amelia.  I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.  Okay.  Well then, when I do, can we maybe go riding sometime?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A pause.  “I’m a busy man, Amelia.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...okay.”  She could feel the tears stinging her eyes.  She had no idea why it still hurt so much; she never saw her father very often anyway.  He would sometimes stop by her chambers to look at whatever projects she was working on.  He didn’t usually say anything, unless it was to point out an error or oversight on a map, and he never stayed for long.  She had a vague recollection that she and her father </span>
  <em>
    <span>used</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do things together, but she could never seem to remember what they were. Trying to just made things hurt more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her father must have started to walk away, because his voice was coming from much farther away than it had been.  “Oh, and Amelia, when you figure out what you want to name the thing let the Seneschal know and he’ll arrange to get it stitched on the saddle and bridle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had, indeed, managed to figure out what to do with the pile of supplies without much effort.  And she found riding much more enjoyable than her previous secondary hobby, although that was probably unsurprising as that had not been one she had been given any say about taking up in the first place.  She only had the time to ride because Cailan had brought something back from Orlais her father hated even more than Tenor - the idea that she should be sent there to marry some relative of the Empress, Gaspard du...Chalons?  Shallot?  Chalet?  Chevron?  Whatever, Amelia didn’t see the point in trying to learn the name of a man she would likely never meet and would absolutely never marry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia had been nervous when Cailan had broached the subject of a good match for her; the last thing she needed was someone who had the clout to force the issue deciding she needed to get married. Aside from her father, Cailan was the only one who fit the description; a bit odd that her sister didn’t, but not enough to make it worth risking that changing by inquiring about it.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”  Her father hadn’t bothered looking up from his papers.  He was almost as disinterested in her marriage as she was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, actually.  Empress Celene happened to mention that her…” Amelia hadn’t bothered to listen to the rest of the sentence.  Her father would let her marry a Darkspawn before he’d let her marry an Orlesian noble, let alone one related to or recommended by the Empress, and that was before she heard Cailan mention ‘Chevalier’ to round out the trifecta of things her father found most objectionable in another person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Loghain, you haven’t even heard-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Father, you really should at least con-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NO!  I will hear no further discussion of this!  I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> send my daughter - your sister, Anora! - off to become some plaything for an Orlesian Lord!  That is not what Maric and I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fought and bled for.” Anora and Cailan finished the sentiment for him.  Amelia would ordinarily have joined in but she didn’t see the need to draw any attention to herself when she could just let her father dig his heels in about things for her.  He’d have better success with it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her father narrowed his eyes at them.  “As I said, there will be no further discussion of this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her father’s unambiguous opposition hadn’t stopped Cailan and Anora from trying to sell Amelia on the idea.  For her part, Amelia made sure to feign just enough interest to string them along.  She liked not being forced to meet marriage prospects, so as long as Cailan and Anora were pushing for the impossible, she could find other things to do with her time.  She still wasn’t sure quite why they both were so enamored of it, she could only recall her father being as opposed to two other men and Cailan and Anora hadn’t fought him on those, slightly surprising given that one of them had been Cailan’s uncle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Based on what she had been able to piece together, largely from the aftermath, Arl Eamon had unilaterally (and without bothering to tell anyone), decided that when Amelia was presented to the Court at her coming-of-age, it would be to announce her engagement to Bann Tegan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had been sitting in an adjoining room, waiting to be led in, looking at the shoes that hurt her feet. That she wasn’t allowed to take off </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> because she had a habit of removing uncomfortable shoes and completely forgetting where she had left them.  Her dress at least hadn’t been a total disaster, it was one of the few that had been cut for her in the first place.  Even so, she was still acutely aware that she didn’t look like most of the women who would be in the Court.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her father had come into the room and looked her over.  He hadn’t seemed very happy about what he saw.  “This should be quick.  Just go in, curtsy, swear fidelity, and then you can go back to wait at the Fort.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And whatever you do, do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> go wandering around afterwards.  I want you to go straight back to the Fort.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another nod.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And don’t take off your shoes until you get there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t think that warranted a nod.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And Amelia-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had started to look up, something in her father’s voice had sounded different, but she wouldn’t hear what he had wanted to say because that was when Eamon had opened the door and come into the room, followed by Teagan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, good.  Here she is.” Eamon seemed to be addressing himself with the statement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eamon, what are you doing here and why were you looking for my daughter?”  her father sounded almost as unhappy as he did when a conversation turned to Orlais.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia hadn’t heard much of the rest of the conversation.  She had been distracted by Teagan who had come to sit down next to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, hello again, Amelia.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...hi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, forgive me, I forget you may not remember me.  It’s been a few years since we’ve last seen each other.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re Bann Teagan, right?  Or am I supposed to be remembering something else?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan inclined his head slightly in confusion.  “Amelia, did anyone tell you what was going on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, my father was just saying I was supposed to go in, curtsy, swear fidelity, go right back to the Fort without wandering around or taking off my shoes, and be quick about it.  But, that’s how it is for everyone, isn’t it?  I mean, maybe without the part about the Fort or the shoes…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan laughed a bit.  “True, although I must say, the shoes don’t look particularly comfortable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re not.” She scowled at them.  She was considering whether asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>Teagan</span>
  </em>
  <span> to take the blighted things off for her would go against her father’s instructions, but hadn’t had a chance to reach a conclusion before her thoughts were interrupted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I might need to have a bit of a talk with my brother…”  Teagan had stood to go back to where Eamon and her father were talking when her father’s exclamation made that unnecessary.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just what the blazes do you think you’re playing at, Eamon!  I was never consulted about this!  You can’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>decide</span>
  </em>
  <span> that </span>
  <em>
    <span>my daughter</span>
  </em>
  <span> is going to marry </span>
  <em>
    <span>your brother</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had thought it was a rather obvious match, Loghain.”  Eamon looked bored.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it isn’t!  I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> consent to this!  My daughter isn’t some pawn you can use for your own personal ambitions, Eamon!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia decided to ignore her father.  He didn’t seem to care about her opinion on the matter, and once he got going about something, there was no stopping him.  She turned to address Teagan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you think you’re a little old for me?  I...uh, I mean…”  Amelia had meant exactly what she had just blurted out, but she realized just a little too late that she should have phrased it a bit differently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fortunately Teagan wasn’t phased.  He smiled at her and said, “You know, I quite agree about that.”  Teagan shifted his gaze to address the men arguing across the room.  “Eamon, it doesn’t sound like they’re interested in the match.  It’s fine.  We should just drop it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about, Teagan?  This has been the plan since she was born.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your plan, maybe.”  Her father was livid.  “I do not and will not consent to this match.  Amelia, come along, they must be ready for you by now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her father hadn’t bothered to wait for her to follow him.  Instead, he stalked over to her, grabbed her arm, and marched from the room as she half-ran, half-hopped after him in the shoes that had ended up cutting her feet badly enough they were bleeding the rest of the week.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Eamon wasn’t the only Ferelden noble who thought that Amelia should marry one of their male relatives.  Given her sister was Queen, she was the heir-apparent to one of the only two Teyrnirs in Ferelden, and most of the Bannon saw that as too appealing an opportunity to pass up.  After she was presented to Court, she had spent far more of the past several years than she would like to remember meeting with what must have been every...single...single...nobleman between 16 and 40 in </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Ferelden.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Most of the meetings had been mundane disasters.  The men would usually start off feigning charm and interest, but once she talked about her cartography or book-binding, they would usually start asking obnoxiously pointed questions about why she didn’t have a ‘better’ hobby.  Some of them hadn’t been so bad; she had spent a comparatively pleasant evening staring at Nathaniel Howe in bemused confusion as he stared similarly back at her.  It had also been a nice change of pace to see the other person dragged off by his chaperone when she was usually the one who got forcibly removed from the room by her sister to be treated to a lecture about how she needed to be more ‘diplomatic’ about things.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She actually preferred going to the meetings with her father.  He rarely said anything to her during the things or about them after, but being ignored by him was much more pleasant than being criticised by her sister.  And he had come in very handy during what was, by far, the worst meeting she was forced to.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She still wasn’t sure just how exactly Bann Urel had convinced her father to agree to the meeting in the first place - even she had heard some disturbing rumors about Vaughn Kendell and she never talked to anyone.  She hadn’t liked the way the man looked at her from the beginning, and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> hadn’t liked when he had started rubbing and squeezing her thigh over her dress as the evening went on.  Either her father had been watching closely or she had been very lucky, because she had just flinched away from Vaughn’s groping when her father was pulling her away from the table and telling her to “Go wait in the carriage.”  She didn’t know what he had said or done during the 20 or so minutes she waited in the carriage, but whatever it was must have worked, because she hadn’t seen Vaughn since.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia had tried to use the bit of freedom bought by Cailan's new obsession with her marrying some Orlesian Duke and his inability to see the futility of the endeavor to try and maybe possibly figure out something she wanted to do with herself.  She liked her maps and her archives, but she didn’t think she’d be able to take them any further than hobbies.  They were, after all, things she could still do after she was married - even if almost every potential husband seemed to think she was at least slightly mad for doing them at all.  She had added ‘riding’ to the list of things she liked to do, but again, it was really more of a hobby than a calling.  She just hadn’t managed to find anything she was really good at, that was also somehow useful, and so was still stuck drifting along feeling continually out of place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, at least this is a new </span>
  </em>
  <span>way</span>
  <em>
    <span> to be ridiculous and out of place</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was true.  Here, in the makeshift army camp, she was ridiculous because her clothes and accessories were situationally inappropriate.  Everyone was wearing either armor or leathers and carrying some sort of weapon, and she was in her riding habit with a small collection of cartography supplies packed in her traveling box.  She was out of place because she had no idea whatsoever what she was supposed to be doing there, or why she had been called down from Denerim.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her being at Ostagar made no logical sense at all.  She wasn’t a fighter; she had been able to understand the underlying theory that the pointy end was supposed to go in the other guy, but she was totally hopeless at putting it into practice.  She still had the scar on her leg from when she was seven and had somehow managed to trip and stab herself in the thigh.  It had been the last time her father had let her near anything sharper than her artists’ tools.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Cailan had sent for her specifically, and while her sister might (and her father would definitely) be able to refuse his summons, she didn’t have the sense that was a viable option for her.  Even if she could, on the whole, given the choice between Darkspawn or her already irate sister, she’d take her chances with the Darkspawn.  At least they might be willing to negotiate.  Besides she thought, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>hoped </span>
  </em>
  <span>at least, Cailan had some reason or other for asking her.  She doubted it would be a good reason - he had an annoying habit of trying to do stupid, illogical, and utterly unjustifiable things without really caring how it was affecting everybody else.  She really hoped it wasn’t the reason her sister seemed to think it was, which is why she had been so angry with Amelia in the first place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amelia, care to explain just </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’re getting letters from </span>
  <em>
    <span>my husband</span>
  </em>
  <span> asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> to meet him at Ostagar?”  Anora had slammed the letter and its envelope, clearly addressed to Amelia, but that obviously hadn’t stopped her sister from deciding to open it, down on the leather cover Amelia had been embossing, risking days of work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia removed her magnifiers and looked blankly at her sister.  “I really don’t know how you expect me to answer that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could try the </span>
  <em>
    <span>truth</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unless it says in the letter, which I can hardly read with your  hand over it, I don’t see how I’m supposed to know what that is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anora threw the letter at her face.  Amelia closed her eyes and turned away slightly before picking it up once it landed on the table.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you think I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>blind</span>
  </em>
  <span> Amelia?  That I’m a fool?  That I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> what’s going on?”  Anora was practically hissing at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia couldn’t say her sister was entirely overreacting.  Even she knew that Cailan’s eyes, and certain other parts, wandered.  She just didn’t know what she was expected to do about it.  Her sister couldn’t stop it. On the off chance her father didn’t know about it, and Amelia </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t going to be the one to tell him if he didn’t, it didn’t seem as though he could stop it.  So she really didn’t see how she could be expected to do something about the situation.  She was just doing what she always did: keep her head down and be ignored until the problem moved on.  Unfortunately, that was hard to do when the problem himself was sending her letters.  She skimmed the letter to stall for time</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Dearest Amelia-’</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not entirely out-of-character for Cailan, but probably what set Anora off initially.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Blah, blah, blah rhetorical inquiry about her that he didn’t mean and had no interest in.’</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Saves me the bother about having to respond to it at least.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Something, something, something self-aggrandizing exaggeration.’</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why does he think I care?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span> ‘Finally bothering to get to the point, way too many words later: would be delighted if you could join me at Ostagar.  I have a particular job in mind and you’re the only one I could think of to handle it.’</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Does he just not even think about things before he says them?  ...Although, maybe I’m not one to criticize about that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Eagerly awaiting your arrival’</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh good, so not only do I not have a choice, but just making sure it would set Anora off whether she started at the beginning or the end, thanks Cailan.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>‘-Cailan’</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because I totally know anyone else who’s stupid enough to have written this thing…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, Amelia?”  Anora glared at her with pursed lips and crossed arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia put the letter down and glanced at the cover, relieved to see her sister’s understandable, if misdirected, ire hadn’t done any irreparable harm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want me to say, Anora?  I have absolutely no idea what that man is thinking or why he would want me at Ostagar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have </span>
  <em>
    <span>every </span>
  </em>
  <span>idea what he’s thinking and know </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> why he wants you at Ostagar!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. No, I really don’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, I’ve seen the way he’s been looking at you lately.  And don’t pretend you’ve been too buried in your ridiculous hobbies to notice!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia scowled.  In truth, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought Cailan had been paying more attention than usual to her, but she assumed it was just part of his doubly-futile gambit to enlist her to help sell her father on Duke Whoever.  Futile first because she had no interest in it and futile once over again because even if he did manage to convince her, she would have absolutely no ability to sway her father.  Cailan either never saw or never cared about how doomed-from-inception any of his plans were, so his continuing to push it in the face of overwhelming odds was completely expected.  Besides, it wasn’t like Cailan was lacking for female...attention; it would be beyond ridiculous for him to stoop to seeking Amelia’s.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re being paranoid, Anora.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do not take me for a fool, Amelia!  If you think I’m just going to sit around and let you usurp my position?  Take </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’ve worked for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What have you worked for, Anora?  You’re where you are because you were born female and have a father who was friends with a king who had a son around the same time.  It’s not like the same can’t be said of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anora was looking at her like she wanted nothing more than to throttle Amelia and the only thing that was stopping her was fear of being perceived as ‘impolite.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I...probably should not have put it that way.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have fun while you can, Amelia.  As soon as these Darkspawn are gone I will make </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> you get packed off to Orlais.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And how exactly do you think you’ll manage to do that?  We both know father would never allow it.  And, beyond that, you’re undercutting your own theory; if Cailan really </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> trying to bed me, why in the world would he agree to let you send me to Orlais?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I probably shouldn’t have said that either…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get out of my sight, you little whore!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...we’re in my rooms.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you think you’re funny?  This is my house!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not.  You live at the palace. This is father’s fort.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> city and </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> country, lest you’ve forgotten that I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> Queen.  Now get...out!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But these are my rooms!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine.  If that’s how you want this, Amelia, we’ll do it your way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anora had stalked out of the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had taken Amelia very little time to conclude that </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cailan had in mind for her at Ostagar, that really, honestly could not </span>
  <em>
    <span>possibly</span>
  </em>
  <span> be what Anora was thinking, traveling literally across the country to some ruins on the edge of an unexplored Darkspawn and Maker-knows-what-else-infested forest was much preferable to her other option of staying in Denerim while her sister was of a mind to make her pay for imagined slights.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, now that she was actually at Ostagar, she realized that she hadn’t thought at all about what she would do once she had managed that.  She supposed that logically she should find Cailan so he could explain to her his reason, or as was more likely ‘reason,’ for sending for her  She just had no particular idea of how to go about doing that.  She had a vague sense that going up to random soldiers and asking to be brought to see the King wouldn’t be taken too well.  Maybe if she’d brought the blighted letter that had started this particular mess she’d have some justification, but it was a bit too late to be counting on what she should have remembered to bring.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ho up there!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia looked down at the man standing next to Tenor.  He looked about her age; tan, dark blonde hair cut short but with a bit of length in the front and some stubble around his chin.  He looked vaguely familiar to her but she couldn’t quite tell why.  She looked around for someone else he could be addressing partially on instinct.  She hadn’t seen any other horses in the camp so she doubted anyone else could be described as ‘up there,’ but she also wasn’t used to being the person someone wanted to talk to.  Once she was sure that she was, indeed, the only one ‘up there’ she pointed at her chest just to make absolutely sure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course you!”  The man was grinning at her.  “Don’t know if you’ve noticed but there aren’t exactly a lot of other people on horseback.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, just because I haven’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> other people on horseback doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ha!  I suppose that’s true.  If people had to see everything they believed in, then the Chantry would have a terrible time of things!”  He laughed at that for a few seconds before continuing.  “Say, if I were to ask you a question, would you get terribly offended and stalk away?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia raised an eyebrow at that.  “You mean aside from the question you just asked me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...oh!  That was a question, wasn’t it?  And that was just another one, too.  But no,” he shook his hands in front of him, “those weren’t the questions I was talking about.”  He looked up at her expectantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I mean, if the question is an annoying or offensive one, I’m not about to promise not to get offended, but I doubt that I’d bother to stalk away when it would be easier for me to ride away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughed again.  “It would, wouldn’t it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it an annoying or offensive question?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I didn’t think so, but the other woman I asked just now didn’t seem to like it very much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia looked at him skeptically.  “So, you have a question and you already asked it to one woman. She was mad about it, and now you want to ask me that question but </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> want me to be mad about it, even after you just told me about how she reacted to it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes went wide.  “Oh, Maker!  That’s-that’s not what I - !  Ugh, but it does sound like that, doesn’t it?  I...look, can we just try this whole thing again from the beginning?  That’s not the question either!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was flailing, trying to keep both feet out of his mouth.  Amelia laughed in spite of herself as she shook her head.  “Look, at this point I’d rather you just ask the stupid question.  Then, depending on what it is, I’ll either ride off offended or we can try this whole thing again from the beginning, deal?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span> question.”  He pouted at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose if you don’t want to ask it I could just ride off offended now…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no!  Don’t do that!  It’s just...I’m sorry, I don’t talk to a lot of women...and that’s not making me sound any better.  Just,” he sighed as he took the shield off his back and tried to hide behind it, “are you Duncan’s new recruit?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Was that the question?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He peeked out from behind the shield.  “...yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What good exactly do you think that shield is going to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...uh...I’m not sure, actually.  Maybe spare me the humiliation of having to watch you ride away offended?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, that’s worse than the humiliation of standing in the middle of an army camp hiding behind a shield from someone who’s already left?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...had not thought of it that way.”  He slung the shield back across his back.  “Look, if you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> Duncan’s recruit you can just pretend you never met me, and if you are...I’ll just regret this for the rest of my life.”  He hung his head dejectedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t I already agree to pretend I hadn’t met you?  It wasn’t an annoying or offensive question, although </span>
  <em>
    <span>getting</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the question was certainly interesting.  And I said if it wasn’t, we’d try this whole thing again.  I’m not sure how I’d manage that without pretending I hadn’t met you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled tentatively at her.  “So, are you going to answer the question before you pretend you never met me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t I already?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When?”  He seemed totally confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said that if I wasn’t Duncan’s recruit then I could pretend I hadn’t met you, but if I was Duncan’s recruit you’d regret this for the rest of your life.  I said that I’d already agreed to pretend I hadn’t met you.  That’s your answer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was back to grinning at her.  “Well, I’m obviously never challenging you to any riddle games!  But, seeing as I’m nowhere </span>
  <em>
    <span>near</span>
  </em>
  <span> smart as you, can you answer so I can understand?  And if you hadn’t noticed I’m something of a hopeless idiot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I’d say you’re something more of an irrationally optimistic person who I haven’t decided is </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> an idiot or just putting on a very good impression of one.”</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha!  At least you can’t decide.  But, for now, can we assume I’m an idiot so you’ll give me a simple answer?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia rolled her eyes and tried not to grin back at the man.  “No, I’m not Duncan’s new recruit.  I don’t know a Duncan, and in my entire life I’ve been recruited for a grand total of one thing and I didn’t bother showing up to it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why’s that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not sure.  I didn’t think ‘Duncan’ was that common a name and I don’t meet many people.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I really must remember you’re smarter than me.”  He laughed again.  “No, why didn’t you bother showing up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until after I can remember you to answer that question?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, very.  If you answer it now then I can use it later and I might be able to convince you I’m sensitive and insightful as a distraction for when I inevitably say something stupid after we’ve met.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia shook her head.  “My sister can put up her own blighted Satinalia decorations.  But that’s all you’re getting until we’ve actually met.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well then, I’m Alistair.”  He held out a hand to her.  She reached back and was slightly surprised when he shook it instead of bringing it to his lips, but wasn’t about to complain about it.  Amelia had never understood that particular gesture.  “And it’s very nice to meet you just now for the first time, Miss…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Again, Amelia was a bit surprised not to be addressed as ‘Lady’, but she didn’t want to make a show of it and correct him for a meaningless oversight.  If anything, it was her own fault more people didn’t know her given how little she went out.  “Amelia.  I’m Amelia.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, Amelia, I must say I’m a bit curious.  A very intelligent and enchanting woman told me that you’re not Duncan’s new recruit and you don’t look like you’re in the army, so I’m not quite sure what you’re doing here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia blushed at that.  Alistair noticed and grinned wider.  She looked away quickly.  “Well, I’m not sure who that could have been, but I’m here because King Cailan requested I come down from Denerim.  I brought my cartography supplies with me, but he didn’t actually send any instructions about what I was supposed to do when I got down here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, well, I think the King’s meeting with General MacTir over by the war table.  Do you see that courtyard over there?”  He pointed to a rectangle of four turrets to the northwest.  “I’d escort you there myself, but I really need to find Duncan’s recruit.  If the King isn’t still there, I’m sure someone could point you in the right direction.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia really hoped Alistair was wrong about her father being with Cailan.  In her rush to escape her sister’s clutches, she’d forgotten she’d be running right into her father’s - and while her father’s anger at her not remaining in Fort Dracon like he’d told her to was still preferable to whatever her sister had planned, she would at least like to know exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cailan wanted her here for before she would have to try to explain things to her father.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded to Alistair.  “Thank you for the directions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re quite welcome.  Hopefully, we’ll see each other around camp in the future.”  He looked slightly horrified.  “That is, uh, not that military camps are particularly romantic!  And, who - who said anything about things being romantic?  I, uh, I think I’ll just go back to trying to find Duncan’s new recruit before I can embarrass myself any more!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair started to hurry away from her, but for some reason Amelia couldn’t resist calling after him.  “Oh, and Alistair!”  He stopped almost running and turned back to her, blushing slightly.  “Before we met, some hopeless idiot was trying to ask me how to approach women and ask them about being Duncan’s recruit.  If you see him, tell him that he should probably just </span>
  <em>
    <span>start</span>
  </em>
  <span> by asking them if they’re her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He half-grinned back at her.  “If I see him, I’ll let him know.  But he really is a hopeless idiot, so I’m not sure he’ll manage it.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair started to walk away again but had kept his gaze on Amelia rather than where he was going and walked right into another soldier.  Amelia quickly looked away so he hopefully wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> she had seen that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She dismounted Tenor.  The camp was getting more crowded the further she went into it and it would be easier to lead the horse than ride him.  She continued in the direction of the courtyard Alistair had indicated.  She was relieved when she heard Cailan as she approached, she didn’t particularly fancy trying to track him about the camp, but was slightly dismayed when she heard her father too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t we know more about what’s in the Wilds?”  Cailan always did have a bit of a hard time understanding why reality refused to accommodate his every whim.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because, Cailan, there’s nothing in the Korcari Wilds except for some Chasand and the Southern Wastes, and neither of those things is a threat.”  She frowned slightly at her father’s already-frustrated tone.  “I’ve sent some scouts to look around the surrounding area. We should have enough to go by before the battle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia was close enough to see them clearly now.  She was a bit surprised to see a Dalish elf at the table with them, she hadn’t thought anyone would have even considered trying to ask for their assistance against the Darkspawn, much less that they would give any.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just think we should have some better maps.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, we </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re my general, aren’t you?  Shouldn’t you be more upset about this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> your general, yes, and it is my job to make do with the resources we </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> despite the fact that they may not be the resources we </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cailan looked up from the table and opened his mouth to respond before he caught sight of Amelia walking towards the table and excitedly addressed her instead.  “Ah!  Here she is!”  He rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her.  “Amelia!  So nice to see you!  Glad you were able to make the trip.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She made no effort to return the gesture, but that didn’t stop him from keeping one arm over her shoulder as he led her back towards the table, and her very obviously irate father.  “Did you have any trouble getting down? I hope-”  Amelia stopped listening and leaned away from him slightly as she didn’t feel as though she could overtly request he let her go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cailan.  Just.  What.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>EXACTLY</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Is.  My.  Daughter.  Doing.  Here.”  At least her father seemed to be focused on being angry with Cailan for asking her to come and not Amelia for coming.  Although, that could always change.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cailan finally let her go once they were at the table.  “Well, Loghain, you remember what I was just telling you about the maps?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia could feel her father’s glare as she kept her gaze trained on the table.  She hadn’t been able to decide whether she preferred looking at her father’s livid glower or Cailan’s vapid smile so had settled on neither.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I.  Recall.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You see, I had been thinking about it and remembered dear Amelia’s-” he reached behind her to squeeze her shoulder again.  She turned her head slightly away from him and frowned. “little hobby and thought she could come down and draw some for us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her father reached over, yanked her out of Cailan’s grip, and dragged her towards him.  She was almost positive she’d have bruises for weeks with how tightly he was holding onto her arm.  “My daughter has </span>
  <em>
    <span>no place whatsoever</span>
  </em>
  <span> being at a military encampment!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come, Loghain, don’t you think you’re overreacting?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I do not!  Amelia!”  He jerked her closer and locked her gaze.  “Go to my tent and wait for me.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do not leave </span>
  </em>
  <span>until I tell you can, do you understand me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I - but I - !”  Amelia’s throat had stopped working.  She couldn’t remember ever seeing her father this mad about anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned away from her and gestured at a soldier standing nearby.  “Cauthrien, take my daughter and escort her to my tent,” he turned back to Amelia.  “See that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>does not leave</span>
  </em>
  <span> until I get there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cauthrien saluted.  “Aye, General.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her father let her go and shoved her towards the soldier.  Cauthrien placed a hand on the arm her father had just released and began to lead Amelia away from the table.  Amelia kept her eyes on the ground as she felt the tears run down her cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia wasn’t sure how long she sat alone in the tent waiting for her father to come.  Any hope she had that he would have spent his ire on Calian before coming for her was dashed as soon as she saw his face when he entered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I </span>
  <em>
    <span>explicitly told you</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stay in Fort Drakon until I returned to Denerim.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia couldn’t keep looking at her father and went back to staring at the ground.  “Cailan sent a letter asking me to come down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She caught some movement on the edge of her field of vision she assumed was her father reaching a hand out.  “Give it to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I can’t.  I didn’t bring it with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just in a hurry to leave, I didn’t think-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anora...Anora opened the letter, and she wasn’t very happy about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her father sighed.  “What did it say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia started to cry again.  “I don’t...it didn’t say much...some meaningless drivel...but then he said he wanted me to come here,” she sobbed.  “And he said he was expecting me...and I just didn’t...I didn’t think I could say ‘no.’”  She started crying into her elbow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She heard her father cross over to her.  He pulled her arm away from her face and she saw him kneeling before her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amelia, listen to me.  I want you to get on your horse and ride straight to Lothering.  Don’t speak to anyone, don’t stop for anything.  When you get to Lothering, go to the Chantry.  Give this letter,” he handed her a sealed envelope, “to the Revered Mother.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wait for me in the Chantry</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>leave the Chantry until I come for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He handed her a small pack and a waterskin.  “Amelia, it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>important that you get to Lothering as quickly as possible.  We can discuss things there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia nodded, put the letter in the pack, and left the tent as her father watched until he saw her mount her horse and start to ride out of the camp.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Korcari Wilds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lost in the Korcari Wilds, Amelia runs into a few familiar faces with unknown apostates.  But she has no idea why the identity of her father seems to be all anyone cares about.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Amelia had been fighting the conclusion for as long as she could, but at this point there was nothing to do but admit that she was totally, completely, and helplessly lost (no matter how mortifying she found that reality).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Getting from Ostagar to Lothering should have been a simple thing, it was just a bit east then north along the King’s Highway.  Unfortunately, she had been trying to make the trip during a Darkspawn incursion, and they didn’t seem to care that their scouting parties or stragglers or whatever - Amelia wasn’t about to get close enough to figure out exactly what the creatures were or were doing - were forcing her off the road.  She had tried to keep the Highway in view, but after hours of dodging around in all directions, she had no idea exactly where the Highway was anymore, let alone how she could get to it even if she didn’t meet any more Darkspawn.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once the sun had gone down, she had taken the incredibly stupid, if probably necessary, risk of getting off Tenor and trying to get some sleep.  Continuing to wander in the dark would have been even stupider because she wouldn’t have been able to see the Darkspawn and would just end up more lost; astronomy was never her forte.  Even if it had been, she couldn’t see the stars for the trees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hadn’t slept well (although she knew full well that might have been a good thing) and had started trying to work her way north again once there was enough daylight to at least generally navigate by.  But she was starting to think she’d be in real trouble if she didn’t either find the Highway, or some way to get to the Highway, soon.  Neither she nor Tenor had had anything to eat or drink since lunch the previous day (she still had the waterskin her father had given her and thought there might be some food in the pack, but trying to have something now would probably just remind her of exactly how hungry and thirsty she was).  Tenor was lathered so she had dismounted.  Shortly after she’d done so, she’d managed to stick her foot into some sort of hole and while her ankle was definitely not broken, it was hurting more the more she walked on it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She let go of the reins and sat down against a tree.  Tenor followed her and stood beside her so she could scratch his chin while she tried to figure out something she could do, other than just keep sitting by the tree waiting for death.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked down at her feet.  The boots were leather, so they were probably going to be salvageable but her cloak and habit were definitely ruined - stained an unrecognizable color with probably much worse than mud and covered in rips, tears, and tatters from her calf down.  Her father would probably kill her for ruining them.  If he didn’t kill her for not waiting for him in Lothering.  If she even saw him again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knew it wouldn’t help her; sitting around crying never helped anyone do anything.  But she was just so tired.  And hungry.  And she couldn’t think of anything that she could do that might help her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least, until Tenor lifted his head up and his ears started twitching.  The horse had clearly heard something, even if she couldn’t.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t scaring him; he would back away and stomp at the ground if something scared him.  He was just very, very interested in whatever he had heard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Amelia wasn’t convinced that whatever Tenor was reacting to would help her, she knew nothing in her immediate surroundings could, so she got up, grabbed his reins and started walking in the direction he was looking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took about five minutes of walking before she was able to hear the voices.  She kept walking for a few more until she could hear them clearly.  She didn’t recognize any of them, but they were speaking King’s Tongue which ruled out Chasand, Avaar, or Dalish.  She was well aware that just because these people were likely Ferelden did not in any way guarantee they would be friendly.  Still, she had her father’s letter, so even if they were in the Wilds because they were outlaws, they may be more interested in ransoming her back than just killing her outright.  Besides, Amelia was primarily pragmatic and didn’t really think trading a quick death now for a slow one later was worth the bargain.  And it had been obvious for hours she wasn’t going to be able to find the highway on her own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She started walking directly towards the voices.  Once she cut around the last few trees, she was able to see four people speaking outside a small house.  The younger woman was likely an apostate, Amelia couldn’t think of another reason a person carrying a mage’s staff would be near a house in the middle of the Korcari Wilds.  The older woman didn’t have a staff, but for some reason the house just… looked more like hers than the younger woman’s, so Amelia thought it was probably worth just going forward under the assumption she was an apostate too, until it was proven wrong.  As Amelia got closer, she noticed the vallaslin she had seen (briefly) at the war table before she had been completely distracted by trying not to look at either her father or Cailan.  To be fair, she wasn’t positive the patterns were the same - she hadn’t gotten a very good look at them - but they were definitely vallaslin. Either this was the same elf she had seen in the camp, or there were two different Dalish elves working with humans in a Darkspawn-infested area away from their clans, and that idea just beggared belief.  All she could tell about the other man was that he was in the army and wasn’t her father.  He was wearing heavy armor and his back was to her, so the only feature she could make out was his hair. It was far too blonde to be her father’s, but she wasn’t confident enough to narrow down the possibilities beyond that.  It was too short to be Cailan’s, but for all she knew, the man had decided to cut it since she’d last seen him for any number of reasons - or no reason whatsoever - so she wasn’t prepared to completely rule him out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pah, years of being left alone and all of a sudden I’ve nothing but uninvited guests.”  The older woman wasn’t looking at her but somehow Amelia knew she was talking to her.  “Ah, and another familiar one at that.  How interesting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other three turned to look at Amelia.  Now that she could see his face, Amelia recognized the man in armor as the person she’d met when she first got to the camp.  Al...something.  Amelia was too exhausted to even lament how hopeless she was with names.  The man didn’t seem to have that problem.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amelia?  Maker’s breath, what in the world are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span> out here?”  He came jogging up to her and started looking her over.  “It’s lucky you escaped, but why did you come south instead of heading north?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Escaped?”  Amelia had no idea what the man was talking about.  “I don’t, I didn’t...I was supposed to go to Lothering, but there were Darkspawn on the road and I got turned around in the dark.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lothering?  I thought Cailan summoned you to Ostagar from Denerim.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He did, but my father, he...um, he wasn’t very happy about it.  I wasn’t supposed to leave Denerim.  He told me to leave the camp and go wait for him in Lothering.  He’s going to be so angry when he finds out I got lost instead of listening to him…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not sure how your father can really blame you for the ‘lost’ part, but if the King summoned you, how could your father have sent you away?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia wasn’t sure how she was supposed to answer that question.  She was spared having to do so when the Dalish provided an explanation for her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because, Alistair, her father’s Loghain MacTir.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”  Alistair was alternating between looking at her with hurt disbelief and the Dalish with confusion.  “No, no.  He can’t be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He is.”  The Dalish crossed his arms and stared pointedly at her.  “I was at the war table with him and Cailan when she came up.  Loghain was spitting mad when he saw her.  I didn’t think too much of it given the way Cailan was acting, but Loghain made sure she was out of there quick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair grabbed her shoulders.  She was surprised and tried to lean away from him, but he tightened his grip to keep her in place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is-is he right, Amelia?  Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Loghain</span>
  </em>
  <span> really your father?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia was clearly missing some important piece of information.  Alistair hadn’t reacted at all the previous day when he had off-handedly mentioned Cailan was with her father.  She had no idea why him being her father was so important to Alistair now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I don’t…”  Amelia’s brain had obviously decided to stop working correctly.  She was just too tired and too confused about the whole situation to even try to actually respond to what should have been a very simple question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair pulled her closer and shook her once.  “Is that man your father?  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes or no</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia had absolutely no idea just why Alistair sounded so angry and hurt about who her father was, but she didn’t have the energy to both try to figure it out and answer the questions, and she didn’t particularly feel like testing just how far a man as hurt and angry as Alistair seemed to be would go to get the answers he wanted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.  Yes, my father is Loghain MacTir.  But, I don’t-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair let her go, pushed her away, and put an armored hand to his face before running it back through his hair.  “Why-why didn’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell</span>
  </em>
  <span> me?”  He didn’t sound angry anymore, just hurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I don’t…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”  Well, the angry was back and had pushed out most of the hurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t...it didn’t, why is this so important?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Why is this </span>
  <em>
    <span>important</span>
  </em>
  <span>’?”  He reached out and grabbed her again as he pulled her back towards him.  “Are you…?  Do you honestly…?  Don’t you know what your father </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!  I don’t know what’s going on!  I don’t understand what you’re talking about!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If she left the camp before the battle, she probably wouldn’t,” the Dalish elf said flatly.  “Of course, that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> she left before the battle and </span>
  <em>
    <span>probably</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did leave before the battle!”  Amelia didn’t know why she was getting so worked up, it wasn’t going to help her any, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.  “And I don’t know what you’re talking about!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’ll tell you what we’re talking about. Your father-” Alistair was cut off before he could actually explain what was going on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, don’t.  She says she doesn’t know, let’s give it a bit to see just how true that is.  What happened after you left the war table?” Alistair was still holding her, so the Dalish had walked beside her so he could look at her while he interrogated her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s obviously not true, you said your father sent you to Lothering.  Try again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But nothing happened!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Dalish removed an arrow from his quiver and started twisting the tip against his finger.  “Do you know what my clan does to liars, shem?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia had no idea what clan the man was from, let alone what they did to liars, but she knew a threat when she heard one.  She wasn’t trying to be uncooperative; she really didn’t think anything that had happened was worth mentioning, but as apparently no one else was of the same opinion, she decided to just try to give a chronological account.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ser Cauthrien took me to my father’s tent.  You were there, you heard him tell her to.  I waited for him in the tent, you heard that part, too.  I don’t know for how long or what he was doing while I waited.  He came in, reminded me I was supposed to have stayed in Denerim, asked what I was doing there-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What were you doing there?” the Dalish asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What Cailan said I was!  Which is exactly what I told him,” Amelia inclined her head to indicate Alistair, who was still holding her shoulders.  She didn’t want to try to move her hands and make him think she was resisting.  “Cailan sent a message to Denerim asking me to come.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Dalish reached his hand out in an all-to-familiar gesture.  “The letter.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t have it!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”  Amelia never even considered Cailan’s stupid letter would be so important to so many people.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why should we believe he sent it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You heard what he said at the table!  That he was expecting me and something about maps!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And that’s why he called you all the way from Denerim?  To draw some maps?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know why, you’d have to ask him!”  Alistair shook her slightly at that for some reason, although she wasn’t sure if it was deliberate or because he had flinched.   She decided to ignore that and continue.  “The letter didn’t say why, just that I should come.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And so you came all the way from Denerim?  Just because you were sent for, even if you didn’t know why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cailan’s always asking people to do stupid things, and he won’t usually say why!  Besides, he’s the king and told me he was expecting me.  What was I supposed to do, ignore a direct summons?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why the supplies?”  Alistair had decided to start speaking again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why what supplies?”  Amelia had no idea what he was talking about, a running theme for the day apparently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When I met you yesterday, you said you’d brought your cartography supplies.  Why’d you bring them if you didn’t know why Cailan sent for you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because there’s no other reason he could have!  I’m not a fighter, I don’t know anything about Darkspawn, even he couldn’t have needed something illuminated so badly to summon me from Denerim, and there’s even less of a reason he’d need me to organize an archive or annotate records.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Illuminate something?  So not only are you Loghain’s daughter, you’re an </span>
  <em>
    <span>apostate</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”  Alistair was even angrier than he had been a few seconds ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...no, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of illuminate.  Illuminate a manuscript.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would Cailan want you to come all the way from Denerim to illuminate a manuscript?” Alistair asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I just said!”  Amelia was starting to lose patience with this whole process.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s see these ‘supplies’ of yours.”  The Dalish walked over the Tenor and removed Amelia’s traveling box and the pack from her father.  “Awful lot of supplies.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need the right tools to draw up a proper map.  Besides, I only brought the box, my father gave me the pack before I left Ostagar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Another bit of ‘nothing’ that slipped your mind?”  The Dalish didn’t sound amused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was getting to that part before he,” Amelia tilted her head to indicate Alistair, “interrupted me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t interrupt; I was asking a question!”  Alistair sounded offended.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know it’s possible to interrupt </span>
  <em>
    <span>by</span>
  </em>
  <span> asking a question, right?”  Amelia knew she should probably keep her mouth shut, but something about the fact that </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> had managed to offend </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alistair</span>
  </em>
  <span> had set her off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-that’s not… you-you’re just trying to trick me!  You’re some sort of a… tricky clever person!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Alistair, you’re not helping.”  The Dalish briefly glanced at Alistair before looking at Amelia again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Truly?  Alistair’s not helping?”  Sarcasm dripped from the younger woman’s words.  “My, my, that must be </span>
  <em>
    <span>such</span>
  </em>
  <span> an unusual situation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why is everyone ganging up on </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?  </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> the suspicious one!”  Alistair said indignantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That she is,” the Dalish said flatly.  “What’s in the pack?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, my father gave it to me and I didn’t open it.  He also gave me a letter for the Revered Mother in Lothering that I stuck in there, but I don’t know what it says or what else is in there.”  Amelia didn’t want to be accused of ‘forgetting’ another detail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Dalish opened the pack.  “Hmm...why didn’t you open this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought…”  Amelia sighed and glanced away.  “I thought I’d be able to find the Highway.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You?  Find the Highway?  By </span>
  <em>
    <span>yourself</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”  The Dalish shook his head in mocking amusement.  “Bedroll, blanket, rations… ah, here we are.  Letter.”  The Dalish pulled out the letter and walked back to Amelia and Alistair.  “Still sealed.  See, shem?  You can remember things when you try.”  He broke the seal and held the letter out to Alistair.  “What’s it say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair looked down at the letter.  “‘To the Revered Mother of Lothering; I have sent my daughter to await my return from Ostagar at your Chantry.  Please see that she does not leave until I come to collect her.  You will be compensated for your efforts when I do so.  General Loghain MacTir.’  ‘Until he comes to collect you’?”  Alistair glanced at Amelia.  “That’s an...interesting way of putting it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia shrugged, or tried to at any rate.  Her father’s phrasing sounded perfectly normal to her, so she wasn’t sure what Alistair was so surprised about.  “I didn’t write it, you’d have to ask him about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not exactly high on my list of questions for him…”  Alistair tried to glower at her.  Another person might say he succeeded, but he was nowhere near as good as her father was at the expression, so it had no particular effect on Amelia.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Dalish put the pack back on Tenor and moved on to her travelling box.  He started pulling out her inkwells.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s in those bottles?” Alistair practically shouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia flinched away slightly at his volume. “...ink.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.  Well, that makes sense I suppose.  Does </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> like ink, now that you mention it.  But what’s in that </span>
  <em>
    <span>green</span>
  </em>
  <span> bottle?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia had a suspicion, but glanced over anyway.  “...</span>
  <em>
    <span>green</span>
  </em>
  <span> ink.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what did you think you need green ink for?”  Alistair sounded way too proud of himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I admit it’s a bit trite at this point, but I thought I might use it to indicate ‘forest’ on a map.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh… well, I suppose that makes sense.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, Alistair, I think you’re wasted with the Grey Wardens.  With skills like yours you should become a detective, travel the kingdom solving crimes!”  The younger woman was clearly laughing at him despite how mirthless her voice was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair glared at her before turning back to the Dalish.  “Ah!  And what are all those sharp things on the roll?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quill nibs.  Would you like me to just start listing things as he’s pulling them out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… no!”  Alistair pouted at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dear me, it’s almost as though the woman is actually a cartographer!”  The younger woman turned to sneer at Amelia.  “Rather pathetic to be wandering around so utterly defenseless, but hardly suspicious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t trying to wander around!  I told you, I got lost trying to avoid the Darkspawn.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which you wouldn’t have had to do if you weren’t so defenseless.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia decided she did not care for the younger woman at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s this?”  The Dalish had put most of Amelia’s supplies back in her travelling box and walked over holding a small sheaf of papers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia glanced at them.  “That?  That’s scrap.  I brought it to blot on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quite a lot of writing for just scrap.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s useless, I can’t do anything with it.  It’s scrap.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s it say?”  The Dalish held the paper out to Alistair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, ‘The Tale of Flemeth’ but nothing other than that makes any sense.  It’s just random notes.”  Alistair shook his head at the papers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, ‘The Tale of Flemeth,’ how interesting!”  The older woman snatched the papers out of the Dalish’s hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can have it if you want,” Amelia offered.  She obviously wasn’t going to be needing it to blot any time soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?”  The older woman flipped through the pages.  “Seems like you put a lot of work into this to just give it away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did, but I have to give it up.  I can’t get anywhere with it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why is that?  It’s not like it’s that complicated a story.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not the story that’s complicated, it’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>versions</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  Amelia didn’t know why she was explaining her compilation efforts to a woman who lived in a swamp, other than it was a more pleasant use of time than being interrogated.  “I can’t put together a coherent omnibus version.  There are too many inflection points, too many fundamentally irreconcilable threads, too many conflicting details.  The only thing anyone seems to be able to agree on is: there was a woman, at some point she went by ‘Flemeth,’ she acquired power by some sort of dangerous or forbidden means, and she did bad things with it until someone good stopped her.  But if you take out the parts about the woman and the name, that’s the same thing that can be said about anyone who’s ever lost.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That it is, child.  That it is.  But I think I’ll let you hold on to this.  You never know when things might become clear.”  The older woman tucked the pages into the pack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you didn’t bring along anything worth worrying about, but let’s see just how ‘defenseless’ you really are.  Show me your hands,” the Dalish demanded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair was still holding her, and they’d been at this a while, so Amelia had no idea just why the Dalish wanted to see her hands, nonetheless, she raised them as high as she could under the circumstances.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Dalish tsked and rolled his eyes before he grabbed her hands and started examining them.  “No...no, you’re definitely not a fighter.  Do you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia scowled, she doubted he had meant to but he had just struck a nerve with that.  “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>already told you</span>
  </em>
  <span> what I do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Play around with paper?  So, no, you don’t do anything.  That explains these.”  He let her go.  “You’re obviously not a threat, but that does leave us with the little matter of just what to do with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia didn’t like the way the Dalish was looking at her just then, another running theme in her life lately.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you on about, Theron?”  Alistiar must not have noticed the look on Theron’s face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘What are you on about’?  Honestly, can it really be possible that you actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> as stupid as you look?”  The younger woman was looking at Alistair the way Amelia’s etiquette tutor used to look at her.  “The daughter of your enemy wanders right into your hands, utterly defenseless, and you’re wondering about what you’re going to do with her?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m sorry we’re not all crazy apostates living in the middle of a swamp with nothing better to do but plot elaborate revenge on anyone and everyone!”  Alistair let Amelia go and addressed the woman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron caught Amelia’s gaze, took out another arrow (or maybe the same one, those things all looked alike to Amelia), pointed it at her, and slid it across his throat before joining Alistair and the woman in their discussion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re discussing your fate, child.”  The older woman was standing right next to Amelia, and Amelia had no idea just when and how she got there.  “Don’t you want to have a say in it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t get the sense they were particularly interested in my opinions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps not.  But why stay then?  Surely you don’t want to leave your fate in the hands of those who don’t care about your opinions?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I left, the people deciding things back home wouldn’t care any more than they do.  Also, it’s not like I’d get far.  I’m not about to win any foot races, even </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> Alistair in armor and that’s not even mentioning arrows or spells.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pah.  Foot races.  You have a horse, don’t you girl?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia shook her head.  “He’s lathered and dehydrated, I won’t be able to ride him until he gets some rest.  And even if I could…”  Amelia turned to the woman, “There’s no point in me running back into the Wilds.  I only came out to talk to you in the first place because I don’t know how to get out of here on my own.  I may be useless, but I’m not an idiot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm…‘useless,’ you say.  Why do you say that?  I heard you list off several things that could come in quite handy under the right circumstances.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and you saw how it went over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So?  Or do you believe that the Dalish are the final arbiters of utility?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.  But no one else seems to have much use for it, either.  I mean, they say ‘the pen’s mightier than the sword’ and all that, but I find that they, more often than not, have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That they don’t, child.  That they don’t.  But if they don’t, why listen?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If no one can see a use for something, isn’t that what ‘useless’ is?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not a question I can answer.  But is that why you let other people decide what your life’s going to be?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t let other people decide what my life’s going to be!  I just...don’t have any ideas for it myself.  You can’t fight a plan with a void, it just doesn’t work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no it doesn’t.  You are twice familiar, child.  There was a time, very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> long ago when my life was quite like yours.  I can’t say I miss it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well how’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>get out of it then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The older woman grinned, “Not in a way you could repeat.  But even if you could, I don’t think you’d be very happy in a swamp with only an ungrateful daughter for company.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not really, no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ha!”  The woman looked towards the circle of the other three people by the house.  “Well, it looks like your fate is almost decided, but in case you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> decide you’d like to tell them your opinion on it, I have a word of advice for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m listening.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So not only do you let others decide your fate, you go around taking the advice of strange old women you meet in swamps?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never said I’d take the advice, I said I’d listen to it.  No harm in listening, can’t know if there’s harm in taking if I don’t hear it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re too clever by half, girl.  Anyone ever tell you that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not like that, exactly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, as you’ve listened to this old woman talk for so long, I’ll give you two pieces of advice.  The ability to see things for what they are is a rare talent.  The ability to see things for what they are and not flinch from them is rarer still.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia sighed.  “‘Rare’ isn’t the same as valued.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.  But ‘valued’ isn’t the same as ‘useful.’”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia inclined her head slightly in the older woman’s direction.  Alistair and the younger woman started walking towards them, but Amelia was more concerned that she saw Theron looking at Tenor’s saddle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, stop!  You can’t ride him!”  Amelia shouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”  Theron turned from Tenor and stalked over to Amelia, stopping only inches from her face.  He was trying to glare, but, again, he really didn’t have a talent for it.  “And why is that, shem?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because he’s lathered.  You’ll hurt him or worse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So…” for once Theron didn’t sound flat or mad.  “You don’t seem to care about what happens to you, but possibly hurting your horse is beyond the pail?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia tried to keep the annoyance out of her response.  “Nothing I say is going to change your mind about me, and we’ve established I can’t really fight you about it.  There’s no reason for you to hurt him, though.  It’s not like Loghain MacTir’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> father, and unless you’ve suffered some mysterious wrong that you won’t explain at the hands of a horse that you’re also not telling me about, there’s no reason you should even want to hurt him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ha!  Once again, girl, you’re too clever by half.”  The older woman seemed completely entertained by the exchange.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron kept looking at her for a few more seconds before he turned away and nodded.  “Fine.  We’ll walk the horse.  And one more thing before we go, shem: you </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> keep up, one way or another.  Understand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Amelia responded simply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron tried to glare again and the older woman laughed again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t understand.  Who am I meant to be keeping up with exactly?  You skipped over that part.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not quite as easy to control as you thought she would be, is she?”  The older woman addressed the question to Theron.  “The so-called ‘defenseless’ usually aren’t, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I could just slit her throat right now-” Theron was facing at the woman but his eyes stayed on Amelia.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!”  Amelia was slightly surprised by how vehemently Alistair was objecting.  “We’re not - we can’t -”  Alistair looked away.  “We shouldn’t kill her just because of who her father is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, if we </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair cut the younger woman off, “She’ll be useful as a hostage!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, at least I’ll be useful for </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> for a change.  Also, I’ve never been a hostage before, so who knows, I may actually like it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up and keep up, shem.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron walked over and grabbed Tenor’s reins.  Tenor balked away from him and started walking over to Amelia.  Theron tsked again and walked over so he could use the reins to bind Amelia’s wrists together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Does he honestly think that’s going to stop me riding?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just in case you’re getting any more funny ideas, shem, know that there’s not a horse in all Thedas that can outrun a Dalish arrow.”  He called over to Alistair.  “You want her tagging along so badly, you’re in charge of her.  Now let’s go, we’ve wasted enough time and there’s no point in us all getting lost in the dark.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Lothering</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As the party considers the best way to move forward while avoiding capture, Amelia is sent with Alistair around Lothering to avoid being recognized and encounters a caged Qunari.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to @blondetexan, @acrononymous, and @kosho for betaing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite the fact that none of her new traveling companions would talk to her, Amelia had managed to put together a few of the important pieces of information she was missing.  First, whatever had happened at Ostagar was not to plan.  Something had gone wrong and the army hadn’t been able to break the Darkspawn incursion.  Her companions were of the opinion that the incursion was a Blight, despite the fact that they didn’t seem to have (or at least Amelia hadn’t heard any) solid proof that there was an Archdemon.  Amelia decided she didn’t particularly care who was correct about that, Blight or incursion didn’t make a bit of difference to her situation, so she was perfectly content to ignore parsing the distinction and worry about bigger issues.  </p><p>Second, her companions blamed whatever had gone wrong on her father.  Amelia personally thought that it was far more likely Cailan had done something reckless and/or foolish and it had been up to her father and everyone else to try and salvage what they could, but she wasn’t about to argue that point.  Alistair seemed the most upset about whatever had happened, and was particularly touchy about Cailan as well as the ‘Duncan’ person he had mentioned to her when they had met (Amelia had no idea who he was, but wasn’t going to poke at that wound).  Theron didn’t seem to particularly care beyond being angry that ‘meaningless shem power-struggles’ had ruined the best chance to break the Darkspawn ranks and he was (likely justifiably) concerned that Ferelden’s focus being pulled away from the Darkspawn meant that the Dalish were likely to feel the brunt of the creatures running amok.  Morrigan (who was indeed an apostate) didn’t seem to care about anything besides her smug sense of superiority to everyone, but just would not shut up about how the Darkspawn had personally inconvenienced her by forcing her to ‘look after’ someone as stupid as Alistair or as useless as Amelia.  </p><p>Third, her companions believed that Cailan was somehow indisposed and that her father had stepped in to head Ferelden.  She hadn’t worked out exactly how they thought Cailan was indisposed (whether they thought him injured, missing, or dead) or exactly why they thought he was whatever it was they thought he was.  She wasn’t sure what she thought of their conclusion that, assuming Cailan were indisposed, her father had taken charge rather than her sister.  Cailan had never been overmuch interested in actually governing, so Anora had handled almost all of the consequential decisions that were made.  Amelia was never quite sure how exactly Anora felt about Cailan (in Amelia’s experience she had taken it in turns to adore him and want to murder him), but she was sure Anora loved being Queen.  It struck her as a bit odd that her father would try to position himself as the head of state rather than just the succession naturally fall to Anora, but ‘odd’ was different from ‘utterly unthinkable’ and, even if she thought her companions would answer any of her questions, they didn’t seem to have any pertinent information that could help her figure out exactly what had gone on.</p><p>But the most important important thing she’d figured out is that Alistair had been absolutely correct in his assertion that she’d be useful as a hostage, despite Morrigan’s opinion that he was incapable of being correct about anything.  Whether Cailan was indisposed or not, and whether her father was acting as head of state or not, he was at the very least a powerful and influential man.  And he had put a bounty on Grey Wardens in Ferelden, including Theron and Alistair.  That meant that Amelia didn’t have to be quite so careful about everything she said or did (as long as she didn’t challenge them overtly or do anything too stupid).  Most of the other people they had passed on the road had been speaking about it.  Amelia couldn’t decide whether she was surprised or not that no one seemed to be speaking about her being missing.  Her father would have definitely noticed that she hadn’t been waiting for him in Lothering like he’d told her to, but he might have just decided that, as almost no one knew she had left Denerim, it was easier to just publicly pretend she was still at Fort Drakon and worry about finding her once his actual problems were solved.  Theron seemed to have realized her value as a hostage too.  He’d been noticeably less exasperated by her presence after the third party they’d overheard talking about the bounty and promoted her from ‘shem’ to ‘girl’ when she had pointed out the (rather obvious) way they could attract less attention on the road.</p><p>“Why is it that every single human we meet on the road keeps staring at us as they pass?”  Theron sounded frustrated.</p><p>“Well, it’s not every day you see a shaved mabari that’s been taught to walk on its hind legs.”  Morrigan was clearly referencing Alistair as it was a comment about lack of intelligence rather than lack of utility.</p><p>“Really?  Where?  I don’t… HEY!”  Alistair really needed to start ignoring Morrigan.</p><p>“If we don’t figure out how to attract less attention soon, someone’s going to figure out who we are.”  Theron was still glaring at the party that had just passed.</p><p>“Well, we could always get rid of the obvious apostate.”  Alistair was likely just taking the opportunity to insult Morrigan.</p><p>“Or the buffoon in shining armor.  Or the tag-along princess.”  Morrigan always did seem to think it was necessary to drag Amelia into whatever she was complaining about.</p><p>“I don’t want to hear another word unless it’s an actual suggestion!”  It was nice to hear Theron angry at someone else.</p><p>Neither Alistair nor Morrigan had anything to add.</p><p>“Are you honestly telling me that none of you know how to solve this?”  Amelia couldn’t quite believe it.</p><p>“Oh, and you do, shem?  All your paper just whisper the solution that only you heard?”  Theron asked mockingly.</p><p>“Look, if you don’t want to hear it, fine.  I’m not the one everyone’s looking for.”</p><p>“And I do so wonder why that could be…”  Morrigan added.</p><p>Theron stopped glaring at Amelia to momentarily glare at Morrigan.</p><p>“This had better be good, shem.”</p><p>“Put Alistair in the front.”</p><p>“What?  Me?  Lead?  Nonono, I don’t lead!”  Alistair sounded slightly panicked.</p><p>“You don’t have to lead!  You just have to look like you’re leading.”  Amelia turned away from Alistair and addressed Theron again.  “People keep staring because you’re a Dalish elf leading a bunch of humans.  Put Alistair in the front and you’ll just look like a mercenary; a Dalish mercenary is still a bit unusual but not worth staring at.  Let me back on Tenor and the three of you will look like my escort.”</p><p>Theron had looked at her.  “You wouldn’t be getting tired of walking would you… girl?”</p><p>“I am tired of walking, yes, but it’s still the best way not to attract attention.”  She decided to leave the ‘but if you’d rather I keep walking until you get caught, fine’ implied.</p><p>Theron unbound her wrists and tossed the reins to Alistair, “On the horse then.  Keep your cloak up.  And remember what I told you about Dalish arrows; you’re only useful as a hostage if you stay a hostage.”</p><p>Amelia decided not to respond to that and just get on Tenor.</p><p>Once they looked like a mercenary band escorting a noble north, everyone else on the road immediately ignored them and their continued journey to Lothering was largely uneventful, aside from the mabari who decided to join them.</p><p>They ran into the thing (or, more accurately, it carrened headlong into Alistair) while they were stopped to refill their waterskins and take an accounting of their supplies before they reached Lothering.  The dog came tearing out of the forest chased by some Darkspawn.  Theron, Morrigan, and Alistair (once he had managed to disentangle himself from the dog) made fairly short work of the Darkspawn, which left them the issue of what to do with the dog.</p><p>“I refuse to travel with two unbathed, drooling imbeciles!  Either that dog goes or Alistair does!”  Morrigan had, it seemed, gone too long without an unprovoked attack on Alistair.</p><p>Alistair was too busy playing tug-of-war with the dog using an extra pair of socks to respond.</p><p>“What is it even doing here?”  Theron stared at the dog in confusion.  “How did it follow us all the way from Ostagar.”</p><p>“Mabari are funny like that.”  Alistair tried to reclaim his spare socks by holding them above his head but the mabari just used his shoulders as a stepstool to grab them again.  “It’s called imprinting.  They just kind of pick someone and stick with them.”</p><p>“And the creature picked you.”  Morrigan sounded disgusted at the very thought.  “What does that say about its taste?”</p><p>“What’re you talking about, no it didn’t!”  Alistair had the mabari in a headlock and was trying to pry his socks out of its mouth.  “If it did, it would have listened to me about the socks and I wouldn’t need to be doing this.”</p><p>“Can we get rid of it?”  Theron was looking at the mabari with almost as much contempt for its presence as he’d had for Amelia’s.</p><p>“No, not if it’s imprinted.  It’ll just keep following whoever it is.”  Alistair had managed to get his socks back into his pack, but the mabari had seen him do it and was now trying to wrest the pack from Alistair’s grip.</p><p>“Oh, by the Dread Wolf,” Theron snatched up his own pack and marched over to Alistair and the dog.  “You!  Dog.  Drop the pack.”</p><p>The mabari just looked at Theron and wagged its tail.  </p><p>Theron turned to Morrigan, “Care to try?”</p><p>Morrigan rolled her eyes and looked extremely put out.  “Listen here, beast, get away and unless you want to drag that great oaf with you, drop the pack.”</p><p>The mabari stopped wagging its tail and growled.</p><p>Theron turned back to Alistair, “I thought you said that it would listen to whoever it’s imprinted on?”</p><p>“It will!”</p><p>“So why’s it not listening?”</p><p>“Must not be imprinted on either of you either.”</p><p>“But you said it followed us here because it’s imprinted on someone.”</p><p>“Well, that’s what I thought, but if it’s not imprinted on you, me, or the swamp hag-”</p><p>“Swamp hag?”</p><p>Theron cut Morrigan off with a glare before turning to Amelia.  “You, girl,” he pointed to the mabari, still holding Alistair’s pack.</p><p>Amelia frowned slightly, she wished she knew whether her turning out to be able to command the mabari would make Theron more or less frustrated with her.  But as she knew dragging her feet would definitely make him more frustrated, she complied, “Please drop the pack.”</p><p>The mabari opened its mouth.</p><p>“Ah, well, it seems the useless accessory has acquired a useless accessory!  Will wonders never cease?”  Morrigan had apparently also gone too long without an unprovoked attack on Amelia.</p><p>Theron turned to Alistair.  “And we can’t get rid of it?”</p><p>Alistair scowled and turned away slightly.  “It’ll just keep following her.”</p><p>“And if the person we’re ‘escorting’ has a mabari we keep chasing away?”  Theron sounded like he knew the answer, but Alistair responded anyway.</p><p>“It would be very, very suspicious.”</p><p>“How is it that every single creature we have accompanying us is even more useless than the last?”  Morrigan shifted her contemptuous gaze between Alistair, Amelia, and the mabari.</p><p>“Let’s just get to Lothering.  None of this is going to help us figure out what to do next.”  Theron shook his head and started walking.</p><p>Amelia laid a hand on Tenor’s flank.  He was lathered again, which meant she’d have to walk.  She wasn’t particularly excited about that prospect, she had hoped being able to get off her ankle for a bit would help it, but all it had accomplished was make her more aware of how much it hurt now that she was back on it.  Unfortunately, as a slight limp wasn’t about to affect her value as a hostage she didn’t think she’d get anywhere bringing it up so she decided to just try and keep up as best she could.</p><p>Morrigan was complaining loudly about both Amelia and the mabari when Amelia noticed Alistair look back at her before whispering something to Theron.  Theron looked back too before addressing her.</p><p>“Why aren’t you on the horse, girl?”</p><p>“He’s lathered again.  He still hasn’t rested properly.”</p><p>“...fine.  We can make camp once we get away from Lothering.  Don’t slow us down too much.”</p><p>It took about forty-five minutes of walking (that Amelia knew would probably have been less than half an hour but for her, even without Morrigan pointing it out - fortunately neither Theron nor Alistair seemed to care that much) for them to reach the outskirts of Lothering.  Once they (well, everyone but Amelia, Tenor, and the mabari she really needed to name - something with an ‘R’ maybe?) had taken care of some bandits, Theron had stopped the group so they could discuss what to do next.  It had taken unsurprisingly little time for the ‘discussion’ to devolve into Alistair and Morrigan shouting at each other about why the other’s plan was the stupidest possible course of action.  Theron waived an exasperated hand at them and left the two of them to their pointless bickering before walking over to Amelia.</p><p>“What do you think, girl?”</p><p>Again, Amelia glanced around and indicated herself just to make absolutely sure Theron wanted an answer from her.</p><p>“Yes, you.”</p><p>Amelia wasn’t sure how she felt about this new trend Cailan had apparently started of people not being perfectly content to totally ignore her.</p><p>“You want me to tell you what to do next?”  Amelia was skeptical.</p><p>Theron looked her over appraisingly.  “Well, girl, despite your occasional memory lapses, you’re not a liar.  Besides, I’m not asking you what to do next, I want to know what you think of their… ideas.” he shot the glare that used to be reserved for Amelia at Alistair and Morrigan, who showed no sign that they were going to stop carrying on any time soon or that they had noticed neither Theron nor Amelia were even pretending to listen anymore. </p><p>Amelia sighed and rolled her eyes.  “Well, Morrigan’s plan is terrible.  Even if you make it into Denerim without being caught, there’s no way you’d be able to get to my father; he’d either be at the Fort or the Palace and both of those are fortified and would take a lot more than the three of you to force your way into.  And that’s not even mentioning my sister.”</p><p>“Your sister?”</p><p>“Queen Anora.  Cailan’s wife.  If you’re acting against my father, she’s going to think you’re acting against her, and you do not want to be in Denerim if she thinks you’re acting against her.”</p><p>“Hmm… And Alistair’s plan?”</p><p>“Well, Eamon and my father never really got along, and I don’t think they’ve spoken in years-”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I don’t know why they never got along.”</p><p>“No, not that.  Why aren’t they speaking?”</p><p>Amelia scowled.  She wasn’t quite sure why, but for some reason she did not want to discuss her history as a political stepping-stone.  But Theron had crossed his arms at her so she accepted she wasn’t going to have that option.  “Eamon decided I was going to marry his brother, Bann Teagan.  My father’s still furious at both the idea and the fact Eamon thought it was a foregone conclusion, and that Eamon didn’t even bother to ask him about it.  Eamon’s mad at my father for not agreeing.”</p><p>“Will this ‘Landsmeet’ listen to him?”</p><p>“Don’t know, I’ve only ever been once.”</p><p>“...you’ve only been once?  Your sister’s Queen, your father’s one of the most powerful men in the country, and you’ve only been once?”</p><p>Amelia did not care for the amount of shock in Theron’s tone.  “I don’t get out much.  Besides, my father never wanted me there.  Doesn’t seem to want me anywhere except my rooms, but definitely not there.”  </p><p>Amelia muttered the last sentence mostly to herself.  She wasn’t sure whether Theron heard but he let the subject drop.  Which may have had something to do with the fact that Alistair and Morrigan had stopped arguing and joined them.</p><p>“So, do we have a plan yet?”  Alistair looked at Theron expectantly.</p><p>“No, I want to see if we can find out more in the village.”  Theron looked to Amelia, “Your father will have noticed you weren’t in the Chantry?”</p><p>“He’s good at noticing if I’m not where he told me to be.”</p><p>“Hmm… you said you don’t get out much, will you be recognized if you go in?”</p><p>“The Bann or his sons might.  Also when my father went to the Chantry to get me he might have described me to the Revered Mother.”</p><p>“So we split up.”  Theron looked to Alistair and Morrigan.</p><p>“I’m not going with her!”</p><p>“I’m not going with him!”</p><p>Alistair and Morrigan exclaimed at the same time as they pointed to each other.  Theron glanced to Amelia.</p><p>“Unless there’s an option where I take Tenor and Ros around and you take them through, I don’t care.”</p><p>“Not this time, girl.  Alistair!”  Alistair stopped glaring at Morrigan and turned to Theron. “Take the girl around, I’m going in with Morrigan.”</p><p>“You’re taking the swamp hag instead of me?!”</p><p>“I am not a-”</p><p>Theron cut Morrigan off, “Do you think Morrigan’s going to even try to protect the girl if something happened?”</p><p>Morrigan glared at Amelia, “If she can’t protect herself, she’s not worth protecting.”</p><p>Alistair pouted but eventually acquiesced, “Fine, I see your point.”</p><p>Theron nodded and beckoned for Morrigan to follow him into Lothering.  Once they had gone, Amelia and Alistair were left standing in awkward silence.  Alistair kept his gaze on a patch of ground on his other side from Amelia and scuffed his foot along the ground, kicking at the plods of dirt he shook loose.</p><p>“So… are we just going to stand here until they have to come back and look for us?”  Amelia wasn’t sure why, but she was positive Alistair wasn’t about to get moving on his own.</p><p>Alistair crossed his arms and pouted.  “If you’re in such a hurry, why don’t you start walking?”</p><p>“Because I’m the hostage!  I don’t lead, you bring me!”</p><p>“I… oh, right.  Guess you’ve got a point about that.”  Alistair put a hand on her arm.  Amelia flinched away a bit; Alistair happened to grab her over the bruises her father had left there when he’d pulled her away from Cailan the day before.  Alistair looked at her before adjusting his hand to hold her on her forearm.  “What happened, you get knocked by a branch or something?”</p><p> “I…” Again, Amelia didn’t particularly feel like expounding on her usual role as a prop.  “Yes, something.”</p><p>They walked on in silence for a few minutes as Alistair snuck more frequent glances at her before he muttered, “You could have told me when we met, you know.”</p><p>“Told you what?”  Amelia was too exhausted to guess at Alistair’s meaning.</p><p>“That Loghain’s your father.  That I should have been kneeling and calling you ‘My Lady.’”</p><p>“Why in the world would I have done either of those things?  You pretty obviously didn’t know who I was, so what would have been the point of making a scene about it?”</p><p>“I-”</p><p>“And as for the bit about who my father is, it’s not like it came up in the conversation.  If it mattered so much why didn’t you ask me?”</p><p>“I brought him up!”</p><p>“Yes, in passing!  What do you want me to have done?  Interrupt you when you brought him up, just to say he was my father, for no legitimate reason?  Or do you stop people when they’re talking every time someone mentions your father’s name?”</p><p>“There’s no reason to get so worked up over this.”</p><p>“Who’s getting worked up over this?”  Amelia stomped her foot for emphasis and regretted it instantly when the pain from her ankle shot up her leg.  “Ever since I ran into you in the Wilds this morning, it’s all you’ve cared about, and none of you will explain why!”</p><p>Alistair looked away sheepishly and muttered, “Couldhavesaidyesterday…”</p><p>“So could you!”</p><p>“So could I what?”</p><p>“Could have said you cared who my father was!”</p><p>“I… well…”</p><p>“Or, one better, you could have said who your father is.  You still haven’t bothered to tell me who he is, for all you’ve gone on about me not telling you about mine!”</p><p>Alistair looked slightly panicked and was opening and closing his mouth.</p><p>“So, I really don’t see how you can be so angry with me about not telling you who my father was when you still haven’t told me who yours is!”</p><p>Alistair kept opening and closing his mouth trying to find words as he shook a finger at her.  “I…  That’s not… You…  Look, can we drop this?”</p><p>“I didn’t bring it up!”  Amelia could feel tears stinging her eyes brought on by a combination of exhaustion and frustration.</p><p>Alistair looked away from her.  “You’re right… imsorry.”  </p><p>Alistair began to walk down the hill they were on.  He was talking the most direct route to get back to the road on the other side of Lothering, but Amelia didn’t want to test her ankle on a grade quite that steep.  She balked.</p><p>“I… can I go round the long way?  I’ll meet you by the road up there.”  She pointed to indicate where the road curved to get back to the King’s Highway.</p><p>Alistair looked at her and raised an eyebrow.  “What’re you talking about?  This way is fine, come on.”</p><p>“No!  I’d really rather go round the long way!”</p><p>“You’ll be fine, it’s not like you’re going to fall.”  </p><p>He tugged at her arm.  Not hard, but Amelia had been overbalanced a bit trying not to move her feet and he was tugging towards her weak ankle.  She yelped as her ankle twisted under her and she started to fall.  She caught a quick glance of the look of horrified shock on Alistair’s face as her own rushed towards the ground.  Fortunately, Alistair’s shock didn’t keep him from reacting and he was able to catch her before she completely collapsed.  He sat her on the ground and looked her over quickly, with an expression that was part way between worried and angry, before he took off his gauntlets and set to work removing her boot.  Taking the boot off only made the pain worse; Amelia could feel her pulse in the swollen joint.</p><p>“Maker’s breath!”  Alistair looked from Amelia to her ankle with the horrified shock she had seen when she was falling.  “How… how long have you been walking on this?”</p><p>“Not sure.  A few hours before I met up with you, I think.”</p><p>“A few…  Amelia, you’ve been walking on this all day?”</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>“Is this why you wanted to ride the horse?”</p><p>She nodded again.</p><p>“And why you were lagging once you got off?”</p><p>She didn’t bother nodding, she just kept her head down.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”</p><p>She pulled out a few blades of grass next to her and glanced towards him.  “Didn’t think it mattered.  Or that anyone would care.”</p><p>Something forced the shock out of Alistair’s expression but he turned away too quickly for Amelia to tell what it was.  He set his jaw and looked back at her.  “Look, just… if you’re hurt will you please just tell someone?”</p><p>“Who am I supposed to tell?”</p><p>He flushed slightly and glanced away.  “Just… anyone but Morrigan.”</p><p>“Sound plan.”</p><p>He tore some strips off her tattered riding habit and did what he could to fasten them around her ankle.  He looked back to her when he was done.  “That’s the best we can do for now.  Hopefully Theron will remember to get the first aid supplies and we can bandage it properly at camp tonight.  Now, aside from this and your arm, are you hurt anywhere else?”</p><p>“I don’t think so.  I mean, I may have a few scrapes or bruises a few other places, but nothing like the arm or the ankle.”</p><p>“You remember getting the bruises on your arm, but not anywhere else?”</p><p>“I was wandering around in the Wilds for hours before I ran into you!  And I remember the arm because…” she glanced away.  “It wasn’t the sort of thing I’d forget.”</p><p>He looked at her suspiciously for a few seconds but didn’t press the issue.  They did what they could to get her boot back on.  They weren’t able to get it laced very well with how much her ankle had swollen once it was removed.</p><p>Alistair stood and pulled Amelia to her feet.  Despite Alistair’s attempt at bandaging it, her ankle hurt worse than it did before he’d examined it.</p><p>“Do you want me to try and carry you?”  Alistair offered.</p><p>“No.” Amelia replied simply.</p><p>“But I really don’t think-”</p><p>“I said NO!”  Amelia was adamant.  She didn’t care how bad an idea it was for her to try and walk on the ankle, she had absolutely no desire to embarrass the both of them when it became obvious she was too heavy for the plan to work.  Alistair was obviously a skilled swordsman and looked strong, but years of listening to her sister’s comments - not to mention an entire day of listening to Morrigan’s - had made her acutely aware of just how ashamed she should be of her body without drawing unnecessary attention to the fact.</p><p>“I… fine.  Just, hold onto me, okay?”</p><p>Amelia nodded.  She put an arm across Alistair’s back to reach his opposite shoulder and leaned into him.  He reached down and wrapped his arm around her waist to help prop her up.  She pouted at his hand across her stomach.</p><p>Alistair followed her gaze.  “I… look, I’m not trying anything funny!”  The slight flush was back on his cheeks.  “It’s just, it’s my fault you can’t keep walking, evenifyoureallyshouldn’tbeanyway, and that you’ve fallen once already.  I just don’t want you getting hurt worse than you already are, so would you please let me help you?”</p><p>Amelia kept pouting for a few more seconds.  “Fine.  But if you do decide to try anything funny, I’m going to remind Ros where you put your extra socks.”</p><p>Alistair laughed.  “Please don’t, those are the only other ones I have, and I think I may have worn a hole in the ones I’m wearing already.”</p><p>“Well don’t try anything funny and I won’t have to.”</p><p>“Seeing as it’s my socks that are on the line, can we just go over what you mean by ‘anything funny’?”</p><p>“What do you think I mean by ‘anything funny’?”</p><p>“I don’t know.  Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m not the best at thinking.”</p><p>“I’ve noticed you devote an awful lot of time to making sure people think you’re not the best at thinking.”</p><p>“I really must remember just how annoyingly clever you are.  But what if I were to tell a joke, but it was a bad joke and not at all funny?  Would that count?”</p><p>“Well, if it’s bad enough I might just take the socks and shove them in your mouth, but no, it wouldn’t.”</p><p>“Ah, well then, looks like I have nothing to worry about, I can’t manage to tell any good jokes so as long as the bad ones won’t get me in trouble I’ll be fine.”</p><p>Amelia chuckled as she shook her head a bit and rolled her eyes.  Then her face fell into a small frown and she glanced away.  “Right.  Probably stupid of me to even have been worried in the first place.  Not like anyone would ever have a reason to try anything that kind of funny with me.”</p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him look down towards her.  “Listen, Amelia, I’m not…”  He stopped walking suddenly. “Maker’s Breath, is that a Qunari?  In Ferelden?”</p><p>She turned to follow his gaze.  “You’re not a bit more curious about why he’s in a cage in the path of the Darkspawn horde?”</p><p>“I… well, yes, I suppose that’s odd too.  But, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Qunari in Ferelden.”</p><p>“Well, we could always go ask him what he’s doing here.”</p><p>“Do you think?”  Alistair sounded like he had genuinely not considered that possibility.</p><p>“Why not?  Besides, aren’t you meant to be looking for allies?”</p><p>“Why would a caged Qunari be an ally?”</p><p>“Well he wouldn’t be if you don’t talk to him!”</p><p>Alistair frowned slightly as he considered.  “I suppose there’s no harm in trying to figure out what he’s doing here.”</p><p>They approached the cage.  The Qunari blinked at them for a few seconds before speaking.  “What’s the matter, humans?  Have you never seen a Qunari before?”</p><p>Alistair and Amelia looked at each other before responding in unison.  “No.”</p><p>“Ah, well then.  If your curiosity is quite satisfied perhaps you will leave me to die in peace.”</p><p>“What’re you doing in Ferelden?”  Alistair asked.</p><p>“The Arishok asked ‘what is the Blight.’  I came to seek an answer.”</p><p>“So, you came to fight Darkspawn then?”  Amelia wasn’t quite sure what the Qunari had meant.</p><p>“If necessary.”</p><p>“And… you’re going to fight Darkspawn from inside that cage?”  Alistair seemed confused.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“So, what’re you doing in the cage then?”  Alistair seemed even more confused.</p><p>“Waiting for death.”</p><p>Amelia decided she didn’t want to stand around playing 20 questions with the Qunari all day.  “But if we were to get you out of the cage, would you fight Darkspawn?”</p><p>Alistair hissed at her from behind his free hand.  “What’re you talking about?  Weren’t you the one who pointed out we don’t know why he’s in the cage?”</p><p>“My hearing is quite astute, human.  But if you are interested, I am in the cage because it is my punishment for a crime.”</p><p>Alistair pointed at the Qunari with a ‘see I told you so’ grimace on his face.</p><p>“Well I’m sorry!”  Amelia addressed Alistair.  “I thought you were desperately in search of allies to try and stop the Blight while simultaneously evading my father.  I just thought that a Qunari was likely to be useful in fighting Darkspawn while being distinctly unlikely to be working for my father!”</p><p>“I… well… that’s…”  Alistair didn’t seem to have a good response.</p><p>The Qunari crossed his arms and addressed Alistair too.  “I would ask why you are taking the advice of a daughter of your enemy, but the answer to that seems perfectly obvious.”</p><p>Alistair glared at him before turning to Amelia.  “Don’t you want to know why he’s in the cage before you go around offering to let him out?”</p><p>She nodded in assent before addressing the Qunari.  “That depends.  Are you going to do it again?”</p><p>“No.  It was foolish and unnecessary and I am ashamed of it.  My death was to be my penance but it would be better earned fighting Darkspawn than waiting for them to overtake the village.”</p><p>“There, happy?”  Amelia asked Alistair.</p><p>“No.”  Alistair pouted.</p><p>The Qunari quirked a brow at them.  “His satisfaction with the situation is likely irrelevant.  The Revered Mother has the key to this cage and I doubt she would be willing to part with it.”</p><p>“We are not going into Lothering to ask a Revered Mother to let out a Qunari prisoner!”  Alistair sounded terrified at the idea, although that may have just been because going into Lothering meant possibly running into Morrigan again.</p><p>“Is that your only objection?”  Amelia asked him.</p><p>“What?”  He narrowed his eyes at her slightly.  “...why?  You’re not fooling me again, I remember how clever you are this time.”</p><p>“If I can get him out of there without needing to get the key from the Revered Mother, will you stop complaining about it?”</p><p>“...you don’t know how to pick a lock.”</p><p>“No, I don’t.”</p><p>“...so how’re you planning to get him out then?”</p><p>“I would also be interested in knowing that,” the Qunari added.</p><p>“You two just let me worry about that.  If I can do it, will you,” she indicated the Qunari, “agree to come with us and not do whatever it is you did to get you put in that cage in the first place?”</p><p>“Yes.  Unless you prove unworthy of being followed.  However, based on what I’ve observed, that is much more a concern for him than for you.”</p><p>“Good.”  She nodded and turned to Alistair.  “And do you agree to stop going on about this as long as he does?”</p><p>“I… you… that’s… I don’t think you can get the door open.”</p><p>“So what do you have to lose then?”</p><p>Alistair looked from her to the Qunari to the door.  “I… fine.  If you can get the door open, and he behaves himself, I won’t mention it again.  I still don’t think you’re going to get the door open though.”</p><p>“Fine.  Give me the knife in your pack.”  Amelia held out her hand to him.</p><p>“What do you need that for?”</p><p>“To get the door open, obviously.”  </p><p>Alistair looked skeptical.</p><p>“Why is this so concerning to you, human?  You are in armor and the woman is obviously not a fighter,” the Qunari pointed out.</p><p>“Oh, sure take her side, I see how it is…” Alistair muttered as he reached into his pack for the knife and handed it to Amelia.</p><p>Once she had the knife she let go of him and limped over to the cage.  She took the knife and worked the blade into a seam on the hinges of the door.  Unfortunately, the construction wasn’t quite as shoddy as she was hoping it would be and she had some trouble trying to work the knife in far enough to try to pry the hinge loose.  She put a hand on the top of the hinge to try and stop the center from moving too much, but rather than helping her get the knife in right all she managed to do was slice her palm.</p><p>“Ouch!”  She drew her hand back and examined the gash.</p><p>“Maker’s breath!”  Alistair came over and snatched the knife away.  “I thought I told you I didn’t want you getting hurt any more?”</p><p>“No, you told me you didn’t want me getting hurt worse, not that you didn’t want me getting hurt any more.”</p><p>“Alright, fine.  Well then I’m telling you now I don’t want you getting hurt worse or any more.  And you are also forbidden to have any more plans that involve you handling a sharp object!”</p><p>Amelia crossed her arms and pursed her lips.  “You sound just like my father.”</p><p>“I do not!”</p><p>“Pashaarah!  Give me the knife, I can remove the hinges.”  </p><p>Alistair glowered at the Qunari.  “No, I’ll remove the hinges.”  </p><p>Alistair worked for about five minutes to loosen the hinges.  He wasn’t able to totally remove them, but they were loose enough that a good shock would pop them open.</p><p>“Oh, well, we tried.  Looks like we’ll just have to move on then.”  Alistair didn’t sound too disappointed at the prospect.</p><p>“We’re not done yet.”  Amelia grabbed his pack.</p><p>“Hey!  That’s mine!”</p><p>“I know,” Amelia stated as she found what she was rummaging for and removed the spare socks.</p><p>Ros’s head and ears perked up once he spotted them and he started whining.</p><p>“Here, catch.”  She tossed the socks to the Qunari.</p><p>“What exactly am I meant-”</p><p>Ros threw himself at the cage with enough force to knock it over, and snap open the hinges.</p><p>“There.  See?  Got it open.”</p><p>Ros stuck his head in the cage and grabbed the socks out of the Qunari’s hands.</p><p>“My socks!”  Alistair lunged at Ros who dodged him.</p><p>The Qunari shook his head a few times before he stepped out of the cage.  “I believe I preferred the part of the plan where you were using a sharp object.”</p><p>“I said I’d get it open, I didn’t say how.”</p><p>“Indeed.  I am Sten of the Beresaad.”  He inclined his head slightly.</p><p>“Amelia.  I don’t think I’m really ‘of’ anything-”</p><p>“You appear to be a student of the mind.  Their roles are unlike that of the Beresaad.”</p><p>“Um...yes?  I guess you could say so?  I mostly do cartography and archiving.”</p><p>Sten nodded.</p><p>“And he’s,” she indicated Alistair, still fighting Ros for his socks, “Alistair of the Grey Wardens.”</p><p>“He is a Grey Warden?”</p><p>“Hey!”  Alistair sounded affronted.  “Look, if we’re through with introductions, do you think you can tell your dog to give me back my socks?”</p><p>“Ros, please give him his socks.”</p><p>Ros reluctantly let go of the socks and Alistair shoved them back in his pack along with the knife.  He walked back to Amelia and Sten.</p><p>“Say, now that we got you out, do you think you could carry her?”</p><p>“Yes.”  Sten reached down and placed Amelia over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.</p><p>“Hey!  What are you doing?  Put me down!  I’m fine!”</p><p>“You’re not fine, you can barely move on that ankle anymore.”</p><p>“That is indeed how it appeared, human.”</p><p>“I’m fine.”  </p><p>Sten shifted her to his other shoulder so he could examine her ankle more easily.  His fingers barely touched it and she whimpered in pain.</p><p>“You cannot walk on this.  Now, quit struggling and accept your limits with grace.  It is no trouble for me to carry you.”</p><p>“I… fine.”  Amelia sighed and stopped resisting.</p><p>“She wouldn’t let me carry her.”  Alistair grumbled.</p><p>“That sounds wise of her.”</p><p>“Hey!  Are you saying I’m weak or unreliable?”</p><p>“Yes.  Now, I assume we’re going somewhere?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Denerim</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zevran Arainai meets his new client who makes an interesting request of him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to @xqueen0fhellx and @blondetexan for betaing this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As Zevran Arainai looked around the hallway of the Denerim Palace, he couldn’t help but wonder where the Fereldens kept all their trinkets that were actually worth stealing.  Not that he was thinking of stealing anything.  He was, after all, a consummate professional.  But if a less scrupulous assassin </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be thinking of stealing something, such an assassin would be sorely disappointed.  Zevran himself was less disappointed and more bored.  He liked dramatic entrances as much as the next person (well, if he were being honest he might, perhaps, like them slightly more than the next person) but this Arl Howe was taking his time about things.  Zevran was hired to hunt the Grey Wardens, and he doubted very much waiting in a dull hallway full of worthless knick-knacks was going to help him accomplish that any.  He rolled his eyes and leaned back towards the doorway hoping Howe would hurry up with his cue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man droned on for a few more seconds before finally got around to it, “Against Grey Wardens, you’ll need the very best.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran put on his best smile and strode into the room.  “Heh, and the most expensive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man standing behind the desk, Logain he thought his name was, did not smile back.  In fact, he did not do anything.  His expression remained as unchanging as that of a statue.  Although, if this really was the man who ended the Orlesian occupation and Theirin rule of Ferelden, perhaps Zevran should not be surprised by his taciturn reaction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked back to his papers.  “Just get it done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Howe motioned for Zevran to follow him out of the room.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span> Zevran was disappointed.  He had spent so much time milling around the hallway for his dramatic entrance only for it to have absolutely no effect.  He would have to make sure to seek comfort at the establishment Isabela had told him about before he left the city.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran was almost out of the room when the man called to him, “Hold a moment, elf.  Howe, leave us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Howe looked confused and more disappointed than Zevran had been, “My Lord?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Leave.  Us.”  Loghain crossed his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… as you say, my lord.”  Howe bowed and reluctantly left the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loghain waited until he heard the door latch before addressing Zevran.  “Tell me, elf.  What is your guild’s policy on… secondary assignments?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am afraid you will have to be more specific.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is something I want done while you are hunting the Wardens.  I will pay handsomely for it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran grinned.  While he generally preferred when people were referring to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> as handsome, offering handsome pay was something he also greatly enjoyed.  “Well, that would very much depend on what sort of assignment it was.  If it is another assassination, I am afraid I cannot help you, you would have to negotiate that through the guild.  As for other, what did you call them, secondary assignments?  As for them, as I said, you will have to be more specific.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran wasn’t sure why he was playing so coy about this.  It wasn’t the first time a client was interested in receiving fringe benefits of an assassination contract.  As long as it kept the client happy and the amount Zevran was paid wasn’t inordinate, the Crows were more than willing to turn a blind eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loghain looked at him for a few seconds before putting his papers down.  “My daughter was to be waiting for me in Lothering.  She wasn’t there.  She’s still missing.  I want her found and brought back to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… pardon?”  Zevran leaned back and shook his head once.  He had heard clients make strange requests during his tenure with the Crows, but none of them had ever asked an assassin to find a missing girl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You will find, elf, that I am not a man who enjoys repeating myself.  Find my daughter.  Return her to Denerim.  Can you do that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I could, yes.  But it is something the Crows may be interested in knowing about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loghain glared at him.  “Bring her back alive, unharmed, and untouched; and you can name your price.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?  I can name some very large numbers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As I said: alive, unharmed, and untouched and I will pay it.  Your guild doesn’t have to know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran considered the offer.  Finding young, lost noblewomen wasn’t something he was used to doing.  Well, at least it wasn’t something he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> done, even if it was something fun to pretend sometimes.  Still, while the contract on the Grey Wardens was an exceptionally large one, in order to ensure he got the assignment he had agreed to turn almost all of the money for success over to the Crows.  And the only people in the room now were he and Loghain.  And he couldn’t see a reason for Loghain to turn him into the Crows over this.  And he could, indeed, name some very, very large numbers.  “Well, I am amenable in theory, however, if I may point out, it may be necessary to touch the girl to bring her back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have a care, elf.  That is my </span>
  <em>
    <span>daughter</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’re discussing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran should probably remember this was a highly accomplished general he was dealing with.  “My apologies.  However, in all seriousness, if she is missing in the South-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She is not dead.”  Loghain looked angrier at the thought than he had at any previous point in the discussion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She.  Is.  Not.  Dead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, the man obviously wouldn’t budge on that point.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alive, unharmed, and untouched or you get </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he was still a consummate professional and this was his client.  If she was dead, Zevran doubted he’d be able to find the body and even if he did, no reason to tell her father.  The unharmed bit was solved easily enough with a healer, and as for the untouched, as long as she consented then he could explain there was no reason her father had to know.  She wouldn’t be the first daughter whose father didn’t have to know.  “Very well, I can keep an eye out for your daughter while I am in Ferelden.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.  Now, if there’s not anything else,” Loghain gestured to the door and looked back to his papers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it would be helpful if I knew what she looked like.  Do you have a recent portrait I could see?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shadow flashed across Loghain’s face.  Zevran wasn’t sure why.  Surely the man couldn’t expect him to find the girl without knowing what she looked like.  He looked back to Zevran and narrowed his eyes.  “Follow me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran didn’t particularly like the look Loghain was giving him, but he could use the walk to think of increasingly large numbers.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Camp</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alistair laments another fine mess he's gotten himself into as he tries to convince himself he absolutely does not have any feelings for Loghain's daughter.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to @xqueen0fhellx and @blondetexan for betaing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alistair pouted as he sat and watched Amelia and Sten talking on the other side of the campfire.  They’d been talking to each other (and </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> him) almost the entire time after she’d gotten him out.  They hadn’t even bothered to thank him for loosening the hinges!  To be fair, Alistair didn’t think Amelia at least was deliberately ignoring him (and to be more fair, he preferred Sten deliberately ignoring him to staring at him in blank disappointment, shaking his head, and sighing under his breath; it reminded Alistair too much of his first commander in the Templars).  Amelia just seemed to enjoy talking to Sten more than she enjoyed talking to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do you think</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought to himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that just MIGHT have something to do with the fact that he didn’t spend an entire morning and early afternoon shouting at her, then refusing to acknowledge she existed?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair pouted harder.  Once again his brain appeared to have decided to weigh in on an issue too late to do him any good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I bandaged her ankle, didn’t I?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, AFTER you took her boot off like an idiot, which is the reason it needed to be bandaged in the first place.  And he was the one who carried her to camp.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It needed to be bandaged in the first place because she stepped in the hole.  And I offered to carry her!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She didn’t seem to think you could be trusted to do it, though, did she?  And she gave in when Sten offered quick enough.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I… that’s… you stop picking on me, Brain!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop doing stupid things and I won’t have to pick on you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re my brain!  You’re supposed to be the one to stop me doing stupid things in the first place!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I try.  You don’t listen to me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I might!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, let’s test that, shall we?  So, now that Theron’s said you’re going to Redcliffe first, when are you going to tell her about-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NEVER!  She doesn’t need to know about that.  It’s not relevant.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t think she’s going to </span>
  </em>
  <span>see</span>
  <em>
    <span> it as relevant after what she said in Lothering?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re my brain, thinking’s your department.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fine.  She’s going to see it as relevant and the longer you put this off-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not listening to you!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>See?  You never listen to me when-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair stuck his fingers in his ears.  He wasn’t quite sure why he thought it would do any good shutting out his brain, but he didn’t really have any better ideas given that his usual preferred method of making his brain shut up, ‘get drunk,’ wasn’t an option at the moment.  And he couldn’t think of anything else that might work, because he didn’t want to speak to his brain until it decided to be nicer to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> you doing?”  Theron was looking at him with almost as much blank disappointment as Sten did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m… uh… cleaning my ears?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“With your gauntlets on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um… yes?  It’s an old Templar trick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...right.  You’re keeping an eye on them,” Theron indicated Amelia and Sten, “right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wh-what makes you think that?”  Alistair grinned stupidly at Theron.  “It wasn’t really obvious, was it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron grimaced and ran a hand down his face, “Of all the Grey Wardens at Ostagar I could have gotten stuck with…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair went back to pouting.  He didn’t think he entirely deserved that.  He only thought he </span>
  <em>
    <span>mostly</span>
  </em>
  <span> deserved that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look,” Theron was glaring at him in a way that reminded Alistair too much of his second Templar commander.  “The Qunari is obviously most loyal to her.  If she tells him to kill us so she can get away, do you think he’s going to hesitate?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, probably not, but do you think she’d do that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alistair, she is not our </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she is our </span>
  <em>
    <span>hostage</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  She’s not here because she wants to be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair stopped pouting and started frowning.  “Right…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just make sure they don’t get up to anything funny!  You’re the one who wanted the girl tagging along-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said that was a good thing!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s only a good thing if we can keep her as a hostage, and she’s already acquired a pet mabari and a pet Qunari and </span>
  <em>
    <span>either</span>
  </em>
  <span> of those could make keeping her a hostage very, very difficult.  Why did you even bring the Qunari along anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...don’t hear me complaining about that Chantry sister </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> brought along…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Chantry sister I brought along isn’t going to listen to the girl over us!  Just keep an eye on them and make sure they don’t get up to anything funny.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair looked across the fire at Amelia and Sten.  She was laughing about something and Sten was as close to smiling as Alistair thought he was capable of.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t… you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> think they’d get up to anything funny?  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Together</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron threw up his hands in exasperation, “Alistair, what are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking about</span>
  </em>
  <span>?  Are you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>listening </span>
  </em>
  <span>to me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think they look all that happy together.  She’s probably just being polite.  And who said anything about me being jealous?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron walked in front of Alistair to block his view of Amelia and Sten.  Fortunately, Theron was a head shorter than Alistair so all Alistair would need to do was stand up.  Unfortunately, Theron realized that and was pointing his loaded bow at Alistair’s face.  “Alistair, listen to me very carefully.  We’re leaving the girl with this Eamon of yours when we get to Redcliffe.  Just make sure she doesn’t run before we can do that.  And so help me, if you don’t start thinking with this head,” Theron tapped the tip of his arrow in the middle of Alistair’s forehead, “I’m going to shoot you in your other one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, we’re leaving her at Redcliffe?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron lowered his bow and looked at Alistair with almost as much chagrin as every Grand Cleric he’d ever met, “Why else would we be going to Redcliffe </span>
  <em>
    <span>first</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh… because it was my idea and you like me better than Morrigan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I like the Archdemon better than either you </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> Morrigan!”  He slung his bow over his shoulder but kept the arrow so he could hit Alistair with it to accentuate his words.  “Make.  Sure.  The.  Girl.  Doesn’t.  Do.  Any.  Thing.  Funny.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, with </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron put the arrow back in his quiver and crossed his arms.  “Fine, Alistair.  I’ll say it so you can understand.  If the girl escapes, or tries to, I’m going to tie you to Morrigan for the rest of the Blight!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron stalked off to his tent muttering something about how Alistair was a hopeless idiot in Dalish.  Alistair didn’t speak Dalish, but he’d been called various iterations of ‘hopeless idiot’ in enough languages that he knew what it sounded like in all languages.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair looked back across the campfire.  He saw Amelia lying down with Ros by the fire.  He caught sight of something a bit further away that was either an angry pile of rocks or where Sten had decided to sleep for the night.  Theron had only gotten three tents.  Morrigan had taken one and went off with it… somewhere Alistair wasn’t interested in looking and Theron had thrown the second to Alistair before taking his own.  Alistair supposed he should have given the tent to Leliana, the Chantry Sister Theron had picked up in Lothering, or Amelia; but Leliana scared him slightly for reasons he didn’t really like but definitely understood, and talking to Amelia at all scared him for reasons he didn’t want to understand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You understand exactly why you’re so scared to talk to her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I do not.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You can’t lie to me, Alistair; I’m you, remember?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can lie to myself perfectly well!  Besides, it’s like Theron said; she’s a hostage.  And Loghain’s daughter.  And even if she weren’t either of those things, it’s not like she’d want to talk to me anyway.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t know that, you haven’t even tried-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to go to sleep now and ignoring you, Brain.  And your insane theories that I like Loghain’s daughter at all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair waited a few seconds for his brain to argue back, but it didn’t seem to have anything to add to the conversation.  Good.  As long as he could keep thinking of her as Loghain’s daughter his brain should leave him alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walked back to his tent and got into his bedroll to sleep.  He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep when he got an odd feeling that someone was in the tent with him.  He sat up, threw his blanket off, and grabbed for his sword, just in case.  He let it fall back to the ground as soon as he realized who it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A-Amelia?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was wrapped in the blanket he’d seen her lying under by the fire.  She smiled at him and nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You-you really shouldn’t be here you know.  Theron said I was supposed to make sure you didn’t do anything funny, and I think this absolutely counts as something funny.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked away and pouted before looking back at him and batting her eyes as she pouted harder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… now look, Amelia, are you cold or something?  What are you even doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled at him again, but this wasn’t the sweet smile he’d seen a few seconds ago.  This smile was downright sinful.  It asked him without words, “What do you think I’m doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I personally have no idea what a nice girl like you could </span>
  <em>
    <span>possibly</span>
  </em>
  <span> be doing in a place like…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sinful smile spread even farther across her face and she shrugged off the blanket.  She was completely naked underneath.  All smiles.  All curves.  All ready.  And she could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>all his</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  She couldn’t stand in the tent so she crawled towards him.  Exquisitely, amazingly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>excruciatingly</span>
  </em>
  <span> slowly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She’s Loghain’s daughter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t care.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This could be one of her clever tricks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Even if it is, I don’t care.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Theron is going to… do something?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I.  Don’t.  Care.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia was finally close enough for him to touch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She’s Loghain’s daughter!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I want her.  And I </span>
  </em>
  <span>still</span>
  <em>
    <span> don’t care!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair grabbed Amelia’s arm and pulled her to the ground so she was on her back below him as he straddled her hips.  He had a vague thought that there was something odd about that, but he forgot it entirely when he heard her moan contentedly as she closed her eyes and arched her back, offering her breasts to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, he wanted her.  He got her.  He just had no idea what to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> with her.  Amelia didn’t seem to have that problem.  She was running her fingers along his stomach, tracing his abdominal muscles.  His breathing became quicker and shallower as he reveled in the sensation of her fingers dancing over him, getting lower and lower until they reached his smallclothes, pulling the fabric down and-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes opened and he woke up in his tent, still in his bedroll, alone and still hard from the dream.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maker’s breath</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought he was too old for dreams like that anymore.  But this was all obviously just a coincidence and had nothing whatsoever to do with any feelings he might be repressing because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> no feelings to repress.  After more minutes than he would care to admit of reciting the Chant of Light in his head to calm himself down, he stuck his head out of the tent just to make sure Amelia was still where he’d last seen her.  And she was; asleep next to the embers that had been the fire with her mabari, that she liked better than him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She’s still Loghain’s daughter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, she is.  You just don’t care, and the longer you try to deny that-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair went back to his bedroll and stuck his head under his pillow to try and block out his own thoughts.  For the first time since his Joining, he wished he’d have one of his Warden dreams.  Somehow he was much less afraid of meeting the Archdemon in his dreams than he was of meeting Amelia MacTir there again.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. King's Highway</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An ambush, as well as other distractions, make the journey to Redcliffe much more difficult than it needs to be and Theron comes up with a new plan to try to get things back on track.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to @blondetexan and @xqueen0fhellx for betaing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Amelia awoke to the sounds of a small scuffle near her bedroll.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Listen, you… dog!  Stop trying to steal my socks!  I don’t even know what you want them for; you have something much better already!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat up and saw a hazy image of someone trying to tug something away from Ros.  She spent a few seconds blinking and shaking her head to shrug off the last vestiges of sleep and saw Alistair trying to tug his pack away again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We really need to figure out another place to put his socks…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ros, it’s too early for this.  Please just give him the socks,” Amelia said flatly.  It was too early for both this and being annoyed about this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ros whined in protest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care that you have his pack and not the socks!  Drop it now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ros whined but complied and slunk back to Amelia.  She sighed and pet his head.  She looked over and saw Alistair watching them with a small frown.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” she asked.  “I already told you who my father is, so you can’t possibly be mad at me for not having told you anymore!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… no… that’s…” Alistair was turning red.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leliana laughed from several feet away.  Amelia had no idea what she was laughing about but didn’t particularly feel like asking.  Alistair glanced over at Leliana with at least as much confusion as Amelia had at her laughter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just… here.”  Alistair threw something at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia was just able to catch it before it hit her face.  It was some large bundle of cloth.  “What’s this?” she looked to Alistair for an explanation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a tent,” he was looking at the pit where Theron and Sten were trying to re-start the fire to cook breakfast.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You… want me to carry your tent?”  When Amelia had agreed to the whole ‘hostage’ idea she’d had no idea that Alistair expected it would include ‘pack mule.’  If she’d known, she might have thought differently about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!”  Alistair finally looked at her.  Amelia recognized the horrified shock from the previous day.  “Why-why would you think that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, why else would you give me your tent?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, you want it back then?”  Amelia held the tent out to him.  “What, just thought it would be funny to throw something at my face to see if I could catch it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!  That’s not… I don’t… I thought…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia was vaguely aware Leliana had started laughing harder but kept her gaze on Alistair.  She really did not understand at all what the man was even trying to do anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At least Morrigan’s not around to comment on this...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She watched him turn progressively redder as horrified shock was replaced with utter embarrassment before he turned back to the now lit fire and pouted.  He turned back to her, pouting harder, when he noticed Theron and Sten staring at him, the former in dismay and the later in pity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just… would you… just take the tent.  I’m giving it to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?”  Alistair giving her the tent made even less sense to Amelia than Alistair wanting her to carry the tent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...becauseIthoughtyoumightbecoldsojusttaketheblightedtentokayhaveagooddaybye.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair shuffled away from her towards Theron and Sten.  Amelia saw Theron gesticulate between her and Alistair and say something that sounded like “</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> what you call ‘keeping the girl from doing anything funny’?!” as Sten shook his head and muttered something about ‘Bas.’  Alistair glowered at them, or at least tried to, before looking back to Amelia, who quickly turned her head away only to find Leliana sitting next to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He </span>
  <em>
    <span>likes</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, you know?”  Leliana was looking at Amelia like she was a particularly riveting play.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… what?  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Him</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”  Amelia pointed at Alistair over her shoulder before turning to look at him.  She saw Alistair look away quickly as soon as she started looking in his direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!  Of course </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  It was very sweet, no?  Giving you the tent.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He threw it at my face!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose you are right in that, he is a bit… clumsy about it.  But still, I think he wanted to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You got here late.  Before you joined, he spent the entire morning shouting at me and the entire afternoon ignoring me.”  Amelia leaned her head down and brought her knees to her chest before wrapping her arms around herself.  She wasn’t sure why this was depressing her as much as it was.  It really was unforgivably illogical that she was so upset about Alistair’s behaviour in the Wilds and on the way to Lothering.  She’d only met him a few days ago, and while he’d seemed to actually enjoy talking to her and interested in what she was saying, and he was a bit funny in an entirely unfunny way; after what had happened in the Wilds the only rational thing to do would be to just forget him entirely.  And his endearing, hesitating smiles.  And the charmingly awkward way he blushed.  And… and everything else about him!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“True, I am not sure what he did before we met up outside Lothering, but you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>Loghain’s daughter, no?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia rolled her eyes to herself.  Why was </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> suddenly obsessed with who her father was?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leliana either didn’t notice or ignored it and continued, “I am sure he was just upset after what happened at Ostagar.  You can understand that, can’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!  I can’t understand it, because no one will tell me what it is!  I told them when we met - I got sent away before the battle and didn’t know what had happened and none of them will explain, so how am I supposed to understand what I don’t know?”  Amelia expelled the diatribe with a passion that surprised and slightly unnerved her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.  And Alistair knows you don’t know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well he should, considering I told him that when he and his friend were </span>
  <em>
    <span>interrogating </span>
  </em>
  <span>me before they decided to </span>
  <em>
    <span>take me hostage</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leliana tsked before leaning to Amelia’s left, “Alistair!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia turned around to see Alistair and Theron several feet back from the fire.  Theron was waving a hand directly in front of Alistair’s face trying to force the man to pay attention to him rather than Leliana.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”  Alistair kept leaning so he could still see Leliana around Theron’s hand.  Theron turned back to the fire livid at Leliana for distracting Alistair from whatever Theron wanted to tell him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should apologize to Amelia!  You know she has no idea what happened!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair went red and began to open and close his mouth.  Theron alternated between stalking over to Leliana shaking his finger at her while telling her to ‘stop encouraging him’ and stomping back to Alistair waving a fist at him and shouting ‘We’re not done yet!’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could apologize too, Theron.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron threw a hand at Alistair before deciding to focus his ire on Leliana, “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> apologizing for suspecting a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very suspicious </span>
  </em>
  <span>human, who came wandering out of the Wilds with Mythal knows what supplies, who I knew was Loghain’s daughter!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I did apologize!”  Alistair looked slightly hurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“WHY?”  Theron spun back to Alistair in indignation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...wantedhertotalktomeagain.”  Alistair muttered to the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia didn’t register what he’d said and retorted, “You did not apologize!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did, too!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alistair, ignore the girl and focus on what I’m telling you: STOP BEING SO OBSESSED WITH THE GIRL!”  Theron was back in front of Alistair, trying to block his view again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When?”  Amelia was positive Alistair had not apologized.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After what happened with your ankle!  I said I was sorry!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>To the ground</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  In one word!  That doesn’t count!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… well… that’s…” Alistair continued to dodge around Theron’s hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She has a point, Alistair.  You should apologize properly.”  Leliana was nodding as she spoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, he shouldn’t!”  Theron was back to not knowing whether he was more incensed by Leliana or Alistair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If he wants to get anywhere with Amelia, he should.”  Leliana glared at Theron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron opened his mouth to respond before he was cut off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A question.”  Sten had his arms crossed and was glaring at everyone.  “How exactly will this assist in stopping the Blight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It won’t!”  Theron nodded to Sten in gratitude before pointing at everyone else around the fire.  “And just in case </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone else</span>
  </em>
  <span> has forgotten, we’re trying to kill an Archdemon </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> start a match-making service for misplaced shemlen nobility!  Girl, get back on the horse; Alistair don’t you even think of getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>near the girl</span>
  </em>
  <span> or the horse; Leliana, help me finish packing up the camp; and Sten, make sure Alistair doesn’t get anywhere near the girl or the horse!  MORRIGAN, WE’RE LEAVING!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one was in the mood to argue with Theron’s orders.  Amelia mounted Tenor before Theron decided to make her walk all day in retribution for existing inconveniently and Sten followed her over to help her up.  She usually wouldn’t have had an issue but Morrigan claimed not to know any healing magic and while the brace Leliana had made was sturdier than the one Alistair had tried to, Amelia wasn’t overly keen to test her ankle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should ignore the boy.”  Sten stated once Amelia was seated in the saddle.  “He is a meaningless distraction.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I…” Amelia glanced quickly at Alistair who, for once, didn’t glance away when she did.  She kept looking at him as she responded to Sten, “I… I know I should.”  Alistair kept her gaze and was opening and closing his mouth, except this time it looked like it was because he already had something he wanted to say but couldn’t, rather than his way of trying to stall for time while he came up with what he wanted to say.  “I just don’t know if I can.  Or even want to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sten turned to angrily glower in Alistair’s direction.  He wasn’t quite as good at it as her father, but he came close.  “If you choose </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> to ignore the boy, it would be appreciated if you could attempt to impose some semblance of sense on him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re leaving!”  Theron shouted as he put a hand in the middle of Alistair’s back and began marching him from camp.  Amelia and the rest of the party followed quickly.  No one seemed too interested in testing Theron’s temper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took about half an hour before Theron realized because he was forcing Alistair to keep his eyes on the road, no one he trusted to do it was watching Amelia.  He told the party to stop as he tried to figure out a way for him to be able to watch both Alistair and Amelia, without Alistair being able to see Amelia.  Amelia had a few ideas but every time she opened her mouth Theron ran a hand across his throat, so she decided to just leave him to it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d gotten precisely nowhere in coming up with a solution on his own when a woman came running up to them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank the Maker!  Someone’s finally come!  Please, an axel in our carriage has snapped and there’s word of bandits on the road.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia personally thought the woman was far more likely to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> a bandit than be afraid of bandits but Theron obviously wasn’t interested in her opinions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have problems of my own, shem, find someone else to cry to.”  Theron waived dismissively at the woman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia scowled when the person the woman decided to cry to was Alistair.  She flung herself at his chest and gripped his shoulders.  “Oh, please!  My father can’t walk and I had to leave him in the carriage!  I don’t know what will happen if someone doesn’t help us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… well… that’s…”  Alistair was starting to blush again and made no effort whatsoever to disentangle himself from the woman.  Amelia shifted her scowl into a glare as she decided that she had been entirely wrong about Alistair’s blushing being </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span> endearing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s your lucky day, shem.”  Theron was looking between Alistair, the woman, and Amelia with a distinctly unpleasant smile spreading across his features.  “Looks like helping you may end up saving us time in the long run.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you!” the woman leaned up to kiss Alistair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, now we all have to walk into a trap just because the most useless and stupid people here have found a way to somehow become even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> useless and stupid?”  Morrigan was somehow looking at Theron while glaring at Amelia and Alistair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron ignored Morrigan and motioned for the woman to lead the way.  For her part, the woman clasped one of Alistair’s hands and began leading him down a path off the highway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah yes, the mysterious ‘carriage’ has broken </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span> the highway proper!”  For some reason Morrigan chose to glare directly at Amelia for the statement.  Amelia wasn’t sure why, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t the one who had decided to help the woman.  She would much rather the woman disappear entirely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia turned her head away from everyone.  She thought she saw Alistair try to catch her eye over his shoulder but she wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>about</span>
  </em>
  <span> to look at him just then.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia was slightly surprised that there was actually a broken carriage in the clearing the woman had led them to.  She wasn’t surprised at all when the woman drew a dagger as a group of other armed people emerged from hiding behind the carriage and several trees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A blonde elf with beige skin strode to the front of the group and grinned as he gave the order to his allies, “The Wardens die here.”  He was running his gaze along the group when his eyes landed on Amelia and his predatory grin was replaced with one of pleasant surprise.  “Ah, and I see they have been good enough to bring the wayward </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza </span>
  </em>
  <span>we’re looking for along with them.  As a token of appreciation, Wardens, I’ll make your deaths quick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron reached over and yanked Amelia off Tenor before placing a dagger to her throat.  “You want the girl, flat-ear?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other elf shook his head, “Oh dear, that is quite un-gentlemanly of you, you know?  So unforgivably impolite to impose your company on a woman without a thought for her opinion on the matter.  Particularly for such an empty threat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What makes you so sure the threat is so empty?”  Theron pressed the dagger against Amelia harder.  She could feel something drip slowly down her neck.  She hoped it was sweat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“You mean aside from the fact that your companions do not seem very interested in seeing our </span><em><span>piccolina gazza</span></em><span> dead?”  the other elf waved his hand to indicate the rest of the party.  Theron loosened his grip slightly and Amelia was able to look around.  Ros was standing directly in front of them growling at Theron.  Sten was a bit further away with his arms crossed, glaring directly at Theron and echoing Ros’s growls.  Leliana looked slightly horrified, while Morrigan looked like she could not possibly care less about the exchange.  Despite her desire to ignore the man entirely, once she met his eyes, Amelia couldn’t look away from Alistair who had taken a step towards her and Theron and was reaching for her.  The other elf cocked his head and went back to grinning as he waited for Theron to take in the scene before he continued his explanation, “Because given just who our </span><em><span>piccolina gazza</span></em> <em><span>is</span></em><span>, I know just how interested even you must be in keeping her alive.  At least for the time being.  After all, in the unlikely event you make it past me, there is still her father to worry about.  And allow me to assure you that if he thinks you injure her, he will quickly become even more intent on seeking your deaths.”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron kept his dagger pointed at Amelia but didn’t place it back against her skin.  He glared at the other elf, “The girl could end up just as dead if you attack us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is very true.”  The other elf appeared to be considering Theron’s statement.  “Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to leave here and while I admit to much preferring no harm comes to ‘the girl,’ as you so rudely insist on calling her, if something does happen, I can always just tell her father you were responsible for it.  You, on the other hand, will have no such luck with a similar story.”  The other elf was grinning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia decided she was tired of standing around listening to everyone else try and decide what to do with her.  Both elves clearly preferred her alive to dead and were getting nowhere slowly about deciding just what they were going to do about reconciling that with the fact that they wanted each other dead.  “Look, what say I just go wait in the carriage, shall I?  I’m good at that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah!  That is an excellent suggestion, my clever </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  The blonde elf opened the carriage door and bowed slightly as he held out an arm to invite Amelia to enter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re just going to go wait in his carriage?”  Amelia had no idea what look was on Alistair’s face as she still refused to look at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t see how it matters to me one wit just which of you is holding me </span>
  <em>
    <span>hostage</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hostage!”  The blonde elf placed a hand on his chest and took a step back in mock affront.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bella piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I sincerely apologise of the uncouth company you’ve been forced to keep thus far.  I assure you, I have no intention to keep you hostage.  I will merely be acting as your escort back to Denerim; your father is quite eager to see you safely returned.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aside from the choice of verb that didn’t sound much like her father to Amelia, but she chose to ignore it as she stalked over to the carriage.  She had a bit of trouble on the steps between the odd angle the carriage was leaning and her ankle.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blonde elf tsked as he helped her into the carriage.  “And they cannot even be trusted to provide basic healing, </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it really is time we found you better company to keep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia rolled her eyes at the elf.  “Anyone ever tell you that you lay things on a bit thick?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elf laughed, “Believe me, my dear </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza </span>
  </em>
  <span>, you have no idea just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>thick</span>
  </em>
  <span> I can lay things on.  However, I assure you, once my business is concluded you and I can discuss it at </span>
  <em>
    <span>length</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia shook her head and got into the carriage, followed closely by Ros.  The elf closed the door behind her.  She could barely hear him as he addressed Theron again, “Now, where was I… ah yes, the Wardens die here!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia tried to tune out the sounds of battle outside the carriage as Ros started digging in the cushions.  She supposed she probably </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> care more than she did about the results of whatever was happening.  She was fairly confident she was safe enough with Theron’s party (Morrigan’s commentary aside) and this elf was a complete unknown.  But he said he was working for her father, and she couldn’t imagine why an elf, or anyone really, would be looking for her if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>weren’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>doing it because her father had told him to.  And if her father had sent the elf, he’d probably want her back alive and unharmed.  As for the rest of the people fighting outside, she hoped nothing happened to Sten, he was quite interesting and she knew nothing about Qunari folklore and he’d promised to tell her some.  She didn’t have an opinion one way or the other on Leliana, but part of her did hope that she’d never have to see Morrigan again.  She also couldn’t say she’d miss Theron at all.  Ros was in the carriage with her which just left…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alistair.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her throat tightened and she scowled at herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sten’s right.  I should ignore him.  He’s a meaningless distraction.  Besides, it’s not like </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m</span>
  <em>
    <span> all that special to him after how he acted with that other woman.  Not that I can blame him, that other woman can manage to walk around in a forest and NOT almost break her ankle and doesn’t have to hide in the stupid carriage.  And she’s prettier than me.  She’d probably look great in all Anora’s old dresses and wouldn’t need to get them taken out everywhere…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia gripped her skirt as she continued to list the reasons Alistair’s liking the other woman was really the only rational thing to do.  She continued doing that until she heard Ros whining and scratching at the door.  She leaned towards the door to listen.  There didn’t seem to be any more noises coming from outside.  She pressed her ear to the wood.  She could just make out several voices, but it sounded like a conversation rather than a fight.  She opened the door a crack and looked out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The metallic stench of copper immediately assailed her nostrils.  Unsurprising given the pools of blood that had flowed out of the bodies.  Once Amelia was sure she couldn’t see anyone actually moving, she opened the door the rest of the way.  Ros hopped out and ran off around the carriage.  Amelia alighted more carefully and followed Ros towards the voices.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blonde elf was on the ground bleeding from a wound in his leg.  Theron had an arrow pointed at the man’s head and the rest of the party were looking at him with their weapons drawn.  Sten must have seen movement as he turned to where Amelia was.  He inclined his head slightly to invite her into the conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just one more thing, Zevran.  Why so interested in the girl?”  Amelia recognized Theron’s tone from her own interrogation in the Wilds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You mean aside from her obvious assets?” the blonde elf, Zevran, grinned up at Theron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remember, flat-ear; I don’t think you’re charming.”  Theron drew his bowstring back further.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran sighed, “As I believe I mentioned already, her father was quite eager she return to Denerim.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But how did you know she was Loghain’s daughter?”  Leliana was studying Zevran’s face extremely carefully, “I have been living in Ferelden for years.  I spent time in Denerim; I’ve been to Fort Drakon.  There are no portraits of the woman anywhere.  I didn’t even know Loghain had a younger daughter.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah!  I am utterly delighted you asked me that!”  Zevran grinned at Leliana.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Theron may not have decided what he wants to do with you, but if you keep that up I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> kill you.”  Leliana had no discernable expression on her face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Understood,” Zevran stopped grinning and continued slightly less enthusiastically.  “In truth, I myself was not sure at first.  However, </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza </span>
  </em>
  <span>is the correct age and general description, and while the portrait I was shown was not a particularly good likeness, the similarities were nonetheless quite striking.  And I thought that coming across the Grey Wardens was a very good explanation for why she would be both alive and unable to return to Denerim on her own, so I merely proceeded as though she were who I thought she might be.  It was your reactions that convinced me I was correct.”  Zevran spotted Amelia hovering next to Sten and his eyes lit up, “Ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  I must say, your companions are quite a suspicious lot!  Would you please be so kind as to put in a good word for me with them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia quirked her head, “If you want them not to suspect you, I think you’d be better served by me putting in a bad word for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I admit I am rather fond of breathing, however I am not sure it is worth the trade to be forced to hear admonishments of me pass those luscious lips of yours,” Zevran looked pleadingly at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are we even considering taking the </span>
  <em>
    <span>assassin</span>
  </em>
  <span> with us?”  Alistair was glaring between Zevran and Amelia.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, you think we should definitely not take him with us, then?”  Theron addressed his question to Alistair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s an </span>
  <em>
    <span>assassin</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  Who </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> tried to kill us.  Because he’s an </span>
  <em>
    <span>assassin</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Hired by Loghain!”  Alistair caught Amelia’s eyes at the last sentence and held her gaze for a breath, before frowning and looking away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then we take him.”  Theron put the arrow back in his quiver and slung the bow over his back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?!” Alistar gaped at Theron in disbelief.  “Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So far listening to you has been more trouble than anything else.  I’m going to try </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>listening to you just to see how that goes.  Now, we have once </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span> managed to waste time on a ridiculous distraction that is getting us </span>
  <em>
    <span>no closer</span>
  </em>
  <span> to killing the Archdemon, so let’s just hurry up and get back on the road before we end up having to barter for a stick so we can get a walking statue following us or something equally asinine!”  Theron started stalking off back to the highway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you’re just going to turn your back on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>assassin</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”  Alistair called after him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron didn’t look back to respond, “Well Alistair, if he kills me, that leaves you as the only Grey Warden in Ferelden, so you’d just have to be in charge.  If you want to let that happen, good luck.  I’ll be enjoying not having any of this as my problem anymore.  But considering how I’m pretty obviously not that lucky - HURRY UP!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Redcliffe Outskirts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When the party gets to Redcliffe, Theron is displeased that there is yet another distraction between him and the archdemon and leaves in protest.  With everyone else unwilling to risk becoming the target of Theron's annoyance, Amelia takes over.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to @blondetexan and @xqueen0fhellx for betaing</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Amelia was slung over Sten’s shoulder again.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she had tried to mount Tenor after Zevran joined the party, Theron had thrown a bit of a fit over how Amelia had only come with a pet horse, but in the few days since she’d been a hostage, she had managed to acquire a pet mabari, a pet Qunari, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>a pet assassin.  Aside from Tenor and Ros, Amelia didn’t think the description was fair, but Zevran seemed delighted by it and Sten didn’t seem to care one way or the other about it; trying to argue with Theron about it would only make things worse for her.  He’d grabbed her hand and pulled her away and shouted, “No horse for you!”  He’d pushed her right into Alistair, which only made him madder even if he should have </span>
  <em>
    <span>realized</span>
  </em>
  <span> it given he had also thrown Tenor’s reins to Alistair, so he’d grabbed her again to try to push her forward shouting, “No distracting </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> either!”  She didn’t get very far forward before her ankle twisted underneath her again (Leliana’s brace may have been much better than wrapping a few scraps of cloth around her ankle but it hadn’t been made for her to be tossed around like an unwitting ballerina).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She remembered Morrigan snickering and Leliana hissing an admonishing, “Theron!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You, my Dalish friend, have no idea how to handle a woman, do you?”  Zevran had come over to help Amelia back to her feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had a vague impression of Alistair glaring at them before Theron started hitting him in the middle of the forehead with an arrow.  “I… don’t… care… I… said… NO HORSE FOR HER!”  He kept the arrow pointed at Alistair’s head and grabbed the front of his armor and started marching.  “LET’S GO ALREADY!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morrigan didn’t even look back at Amelia, but did snicker in her general direction one last time and took off after Theron.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leliana came over to examine her ankle, “I’m sorry.  I could make another brace but you really shouldn’t be walking on this at all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I SAID LET’S GO!”  Theron’s voice carried impressively as he was no longer in sight but was still loud enough to make them wince.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was when Sten picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron had spent most of the walk muttering darkly to himself and/or Alistair (it was hard to tell because with the way he was holding Alistair’s armor, the man’s ears were close to Theron’s mouth but Theron’s eyes never left the road ahead of them).  “Dread Wolf take you all!  This hostage of yours has a pet mabari, a pet Qunari, and a pet assassin.  A PET ASSASSIN!  How does a hostage even get a pet assassin!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair occasionally tried to interrupt the diatribe, “I told you </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> to bring the assassin!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That only resulted in Theron grabbing an arrow and hitting Alistair in the face with it, “YOUR ‘hostage,’ YOUR assassin idea!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you did the exact opposite of my idea!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m blaming you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not fair!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia tuned them out the best she could.  She was trying to have a whispered conversation with Zevran, but they kept getting interrupted by Theron glancing back at them.  While that was inconvenient, it was much better than getting interrupted by Theron yelling back at them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span>, just how exactly did you come to find yourself in such… interesting company?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed, “I got lost on the way to Lothering.  I was trying to avoid Darkspawn and got turned around in the Korcari Wilds and needed their help to get out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I admit that many of your current companions are in no way worthy of your time, it is nonetheless fortunate that you were able to at least find your way back to some semblance of civilization.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But what about you?  My father really sent you looking for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at her quizzically for a moment, “Ah!  Forgive me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I forgot you were confined to the carriage for most of our charming Theron’s interrogation of me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If it went anything like his interrogation of me, I can imagine it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran shook his head, “So you finally escape from your gilded cage only to be confined to a crude wooden one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t…”  Amelia looked away, “I’ve never really thought of my life that way before.”  The analogy was much more apt than she would have liked it to have been.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you decide you would like to escape from </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> cage, do let me know.  Unfortunately, in exchange, I must insist you allow me to return you to the golden one.  My former associates will likely be very angry with me, and I admit the reward your father promised for your return will be useful in staying ahead of them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah.  So </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> why you’re being so nice to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He half smiled at that, “While I understand why you may think that, and I realize you have little reason to believe me, were I to be engaging in the behaviour you are implying I am, I would not go about it so clumsily.  No, I think rather I would merely spirit you away from your current lacking company and suggest to you that it would be best for you to return to your father.  You would be quite convinced it had been your idea long before I did so.”  He laughed at himself, “Although I now realize that has done nothing to increase my worth in your lovely eyes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“STOP PLOTTING WITH YOUR PET ASSASSIN BACK THERE, GIRL!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran rolled his eyes, “Honestly, that man is so shrill…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I HEARD THAT!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Parshaara</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  You are all acting like children!  We are looking for windmills, correct?  I believe I see them in the distance.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do?”  Alistair sounded slightly panicked, although Amelia wasn’t sure why seeing as going to Redcliffe first had been his idea in the first place.  “Listen, uh, Theron.  Can I - can I talk to you real quick?  Uh… in private?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia was still slung over Sten’s shoulder facing away from them so she had no idea what happened, but after a few minutes she heard Theron’s absolutely apoplectic reaction, “NOW you tell me that, Alistair?  You didn’t think it was important to know BEFORE NOW?  Creators, could THIS be why Loghain sent ASSASSINS after us so fast?  Do you have ANY IDEA the size of the GIGANTIC TARGET on your back right now?  On ALL our backs right now?  GIRL!  Did you know about this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Know about what?”  Amelia turned as far toward Theron’s voice as she could given her position.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Know about who this idiot’s father is!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!  I asked him the other day when he was bothering me about mine and he just kept stumbling over his own words!  What is this obsession with knowing who everyone’s father is all of a sudden!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you - don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell</span>
  </em>
  <span> her!”  Alistair sounded more panicked than when Sten pointed out the windmills.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so you’re allowed to not shut up about who </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> father is but I’m not allowed to know who </span>
  <em>
    <span>yours</span>
  </em>
  <span> is?”  Amelia was furious at the double-standard.  And that she was interested in knowing more about Alistair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not!  It’s not important like who yours is!”  Alistair’s panic undercut his defiance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s important enough for you to stop to tell Theron about it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I - well- that’s!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“THE NEXT PERSON TO TALK GETS AN ARROW TO THE FACE!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron’s outburst was enough to scare everyone into silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.  Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>let’s go</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So… are you going to shoot an arrow in your own face?”  Alistair asked.  “You were the next one who talked.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia still couldn’t see anything but she imagined Alistair was very lucky that a new voice entered the conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank the Maker!  Are you the reinforcements?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why does this Maker of yours hate me so much, shems?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  NO!  We are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> your reinforcements!  Why do you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>reinforcements?  Ah!  By the Dread Wolf, why did I even </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask that</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia heard someone, and she assumed it was Theron based on the muttering in a language she didn’t understand, stomp off away from the party.  She decided to address Sten.  “Can you put me down for a bit, please?  I’d like to see what’s going on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very well.”  Something about Sten’s tone sounded off to Amelia.  She realized what it was when, rather than putting her down, Sten merely hoisted her onto his other shoulder so she was facing the same way he was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia saw a young man, slightly younger than she was, in ill-fitting armor and weapons that looked like they were barely serviceable.  He was answering the question Theron regretted asking as soon as it was out of his mouth, “We think tonight’s attack will be the worst one yet!  Please, come talk to Bann Teagan in the Chantry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia whispered to Sten, “Did he say why we can’t see Eamon in the castle?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sten responded flatly, “There is apparently an undead army that is preventing anyone from getting into the castle or leaving the village.  This boy asks us to solve the problem.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Theron’s going to love that…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Indeed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair addressed the party, “Look, if we can’t get to Eamon, we should at least talk to Teagan.  If anyone knows what’s going on, it’ll be him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morrigan scoffed, “Go then if these fools are so important to you.  I have better things to do than assist every defenseless leech,” she turned her eyes to Amelia at that, “who is </span>
  <em>
    <span>incapable</span>
  </em>
  <span> of solving their own problems.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair narrowed his eyes at her, “Like what, find another swamp to lurk in so you can swoop down on people and turn them into frogs?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would, indeed, be a better thing to do.”  Morrigan started wandering off too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will help you, Alistair.  If the situation is as dire as they say, it is only the right thing to do,” Leliana offered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would this Teagan perhaps be interested in hiring an assassin?  I admit, I am a bit short of work lately,” Zevran grinned at Alistair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think we need </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> help,” Alistair glared back at the elf.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“On the contrary, my secretive friend, I believe you very much need my help.  After all, can you think of someone better equipped to assist with killing undead than one who peddles death for a living?  I promise my rate will not be too exorbitant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything else.  He turned to Sten, “What about you, Sten?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do not follow you, Bas.  I will listen to either the Student of the Mind,” he tilted his head towards Amelia, “or the irate elf.  And as the irate elf is not here, I will go where she tells me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, right…”  Alistair looked at the ground and kicked a few clods of dirt.  They waited in silence for a few minutes.  Amelia watched as Alistair turned progressively redder and his nervous movements became quicker.  “I - Maker’s breath, you’re actually going to make me say it, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Say what?”  Amelia had no idea what Alistair was talking about.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean what?  You’re going to make me say, ‘AmeliawillyoupleaseaskStentohelpus,itwouldmeanalottome’.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took Amelia a few seconds to parse the individual words out of the sentence Alistair had expelled in a single breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>serious</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Alistair?  Look, am I your hostage or not?  Because if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> your hostage why are you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>asking</span>
  </em>
  <span> me where I want to go?  And if I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> your hostage give me back my horse so I can go…”  Amelia suddenly realized she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> nowhere she wanted to go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… right.  You’re a hostage, aren’t you?”  Alistair sounded surprisingly dejected about that, “You’re not here because you want to be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alistair, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what are you talking about</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  Theron keeps saying it was your idea to take me hostage!”  Amelia was equally frustrated with Alistair for making no sense whatsoever and herself for not just being able to ignore someone who made no sense whatsoever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So…” the boy who’d started this was looking around with confused optimism, “Can I take you to Bann Teagan then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?”  Amelia was starting to wish she had the option to stomp off to nowhere like Theron, “Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, take us to Teagan.  I’m sure Theron will figure out where we’ve gone, even if he’s not going to be happy about it, and it certainly beats standing around here waiting for him to wander back!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah!  Thank you!  Follow me, the Chantry’s not far.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy led them down a path to Redcliffe village.  Amelia had visited it a few times as a child, although she’d spent most of her time in the castle.  She had a vague recollection of her father being worried she’d fall off one of the namesake cliffs.  As they walked the boy tried to explain what was going on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, like I said, the attacks started a few days ago and they just keep getting worse.  We can’t get anywhere near the castle and we can’t leave the village.  The plan for tonight is that anyone who can’t fight will stay in the chantry, and Murdock and the militia will defend the entrance.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> Chantry?”  Amelia pointed to the large stone building.  She was almost positive it was the Chantry, unfortunately for everyone in Redcliffe, she had spotted an extremely glaring hole in the plan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I - yes, that’s the only Chantry we’ve got,” the boy sounded confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s pathetically under-defended.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… uh… I…” the boy looked around frantically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An older bearded man started to walk towards them.  He had obviously heard what Amelia had said because he narrowed her eyes at her and remarked, “The militia isn’t all here yet, girl.  And I don’t know who you think you are, criticizing our defenses.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Silence, Bas!” Sten sounded very reminiscent of her father reprimanding Cailan.  “This ‘girl’ as everyone seems to refer to her is the reason we are in this village; no one else was willing to risk the Dalish Warden’s ire.  And she is correct that your defenses are inexcusable.  And it seems obvious that you are incapable of solving your own problem and should be grateful for the help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine.  I’m Murdock, leader of the local militia.  So, Qunari, what’s so bad about our defenses?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.  You will heed her words.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The girl you’re lugging around like a sack of potatoes?”  Murdock raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sten set Amelia down (finally) and leaned towards Murdock, “Yes, Bas.  Her injury is to her body, not her mind.  And you will show respect or you will find that the threat posed by an army of undead is nothing to the threat posed by an angry Qunari.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Murdock looked like he wanted to argue back but thought better of it.  He turned to address Amelia, “So, g - whatever your name is-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you asking?”  Amelia crossed her arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I -” Sten growled at Murdock.  “Yes, fine, I am.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amelia.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Amelia</span>
  </em>
  <span>, what’s so lacking about our defenses?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia indicated the Chantry, “Well look, the three main roads - the one to the lake, the one up the hill, and the one to the village - all converge here.  The castle may be up the hill, but you’re dealing with the undead - you have to assume they can come up out of the lake, or jump off the bridge and come through the village, so you’ve got three different main fronts you’ll be trying to defend at once.  The only way that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> easy for the undead to approach is through the Chantry, but I’m not sure that </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> true because I can’t see what you’ve done to block off its windows.  There are more of them than you, right?  You need to create a choke point and force them into it so they can’t just swarm you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And just how do you suggest we do that?”  Murdock’s voice had lost its disbelieving edge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well you don’t have time for much anymore, I think the best you’re going to be able to do is salvaged barricades.  Go through the houses and find the larger pieces of furniture.  Take the pews from the Chantry.  Maybe the statues too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want us to desecrate the Seat of the Maker for our defense?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unless you’re suddenly in a hurry to meet him, yes.  Those things are usually pretty solid and even undead would have trouble quickly forcing their way through.  Also anything you may have been holding back, you’re going to want to use now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holding back?”  Murdock’s eyebrow was raised again, but not in skepticism.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever supplies or traps you’ve accounted for.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah… yes, about that.  We don’t really have any supplies.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?  No supplies </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”  Amelia wasn’t impressed at the man’s dodging, “Not even a wheelbarrow or an Inquisition cloak?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have a wheelbarrow!” the boy who’d led them to the village volunteered, “Not sure what an Inquisition cloak is though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thomas, go tell the volunteers in the square to start bringing furniture out.  You can take them to Teagan once I’m finished talking to Amelia.”  Murdock used his head to indicate the few men practicing archery behind him.  Then he addressed Amelia, “Fine, you’re correct.  I’m not sure what supplies we have; I hadn’t thought to check.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well?  Don’t you think you should get on that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Murdock crossed his arms and grimaced slightly, “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but someone has to supervise construction of the barricades.  I may not have your brains, but I can handle that.  I think it would be better if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> looked through the village after you meet with Teagan and see what you can come up with.  Just how’d you get so good at this kind of thing anyway?  You don’t look like you’ve spent time in any kind of an army.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I…” Amelia stopped as the question tugged at a memory she’d forgotten.  “My father used to show me his maps.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been years ago - it started when she could barely walk, Anora off with some tutor learning something she’d need to be Queen that Amelia had no interest in.  She’d go wandering into her father’s office.  He’d been so happy to see her then.  He’d pick her up and sit her in his lap and tell her about some of the battles he’d fought - not the actual fighting, of course, but the strategy and the planning.  When she was a bit older, her father would ask her how she’d approach a particular problem.  She’d had this stupid stuffed bear she carried around everywhere, although by the time she lost it somewhere it was missing most of its stuffing and at least half of its fur, and he’d put it on a map of something and it would be: ‘So, Amelia - how do you keep anyone from getting to Teddy?’ or ‘Alright, Amelia - Teddy needs to get over to that bridge, how are you going to get him there?’  She’d gotten pretty good at it before it all stopped.  Before whatever happened that made her father not even want to look at her anymore.  Before she’d been locked away in her rooms where no one would have to look at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She thought she felt a few tears escape when Murdock interrupted her thoughts, “Lucky for us.”  He narrowed his eyes slightly, “Just who </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> your father, anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia got the impression that Murdock knew the answer and was just trying to test whether she’d say it or make sure her companions knew.  “He’s-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, that’s not important right now.  What’s important is she’s here, and she can obviously help.”  Amelia turned to Alistair in utter astonishment.  He noticed her staring and addressed her, “I, look, I know that sounds a bit odd coming from me, but it’s true.  Can we just leave it at that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia was spared answering by a familiar irate voice, “WHO TOLD YOU IDIOTS YOU COULD COME INTO THE VILLAGE!  THIS IS NOT GOING TO KILL US AN ARCHDEMON!  SO HELP ME, ALISTAIR, IF THIS WAS ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR PATHETIC ‘PLANS’-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was the girl,” the boy, Thomas, decided to re-enter the conversation at the worst possible point.  “Murdock, a few of the militia are going to see about getting the barricade supplies.  Can I take them to Teagan now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-” Murdock was distracted from answering by looking at Theron berating Alistair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So not ONLY is your hostage acquiring </span>
  <em>
    <span>increasingly dangerous pets</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she’s the one in charge of </span>
  <em>
    <span>plans</span>
  </em>
  <span> now?”  The arrow was back out, “Just… what… were… you… THINKING!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you don’t seem to like any of my plans, I thought you might like hers better!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I might if she weren’t a HOSTAGE!”  He turned the arrow on Thomas, “You!  Shem who started this!  Take us to this Teagan of yours </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thomas responded by scurrying up the Chantry steps.  Theron dragged Alistair up behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia hadn’t heard Leliana come up beside her, “You still should not be walking on that ankle.  I will try to make sure I have time to put it in a brace before tonight, but you really should just let Sten carry you for now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia half-rolled her eyes but didn’t resist or sigh when Sten picked her up again and they brought up the rear into the Chantry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once again, no one seemed to bother to wait for Amelia to start talking.  Teagan was saying something to Alistair (which was a bit odd, Amelia didn’t think Alistair and Teagan knew each other, let alone well enough to sound that familiar) while looking cautiously at Theron and the arrow he was holding and swinging back and forth into his opposite palm.  Teagan either heard the door open or saw movement and looked in their direction.  When he saw Amelia his eyes widen in recognition.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I - Maker’s breath, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Amelia</span>
  </em>
  <span>?  What are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span> here?  You’re supposed to be in Fort Drakon!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sound just like my father,” Amelia muttered to Sten’s shoulder under her breath.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alistair,” Theron wasn’t actually hitting Alistair with the arrow but was brandishing it in his direction, “Explain to this ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Uncle</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ of yours </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what Girl is doing here AND EXACTLY HOW THAT’S TURNED OUT FOR US!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said having her as a hostage was a good idea!”  Alistair leaned away from Theron’s arrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was BEFORE the pet mabari-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s it </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> fault it imprinted on her?  Also, it’s not like he’s constantly trying to eat </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> socks!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“AND the pet Qunari-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I guess that was a bit more my fault…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“AND THE PET ASSASSIN!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told you </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> to bring the assassin!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hostage?” Teagan was looking between Alistair and Amelia in confusion.  “Honestly, Alistair!  Do you think it was really necessary to break into Fort Drakon and kidnap the poor girl?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t!”  Alistair sounded horrified at the implications, “She came wandering out of the Wilds after Ostagar.”  Alistair started looking at and away from Amelia.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ostagar?” Teagan looked at Amelia, “What in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>world</span>
  </em>
  <span> were you doing at Ostagar?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia averted her eyes, “Cailan ordered me down there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, that just might explain a few things,” Teagan shook his head.  “Why though?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia crossed her arms the best she could given she was still being carried by Sten, “When I got there, he said something about maps, but-” she flinched slightly as she remembered Cailan grabbing her when she got to Ostagar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan sighed and pressed a hand to his temple, “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> almost definitely explains a few things.  Maker’s breath, Cailan…” Teagan was silent for a few moments before he addressed them again, “Well, we can figure out what we’re going to do about getting to Eamon after the battle.”  He turned to Alistair, “Can I assume your </span>
  <em>
    <span>hostage</span>
  </em>
  <span> and her escort will be staying in the Chantry tonight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sten responded, “I am not carrying her to ensure she doesn’t escape; I am carrying her because she was injured several days ago and the rest of the Bas seem intent on making it worse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan glared at Alistair for a few seconds before turning to Amelia, “We don’t have any healers, but one of the Chantry sisters has been doing a fairly good job of patching people up.  I’m not sure what supplies are left, but I can have her take a look.”  He shook his head and smiled slightly, “Well, I realize the circumstances are less than ideal, but it is nice to see you again.  I think the last time was when you and your father turned down my proposal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>proposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to her?”  Alistair’s voice went up at least an octave on the second word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know there was supposed to be an engagement!” Amelia protested.  “And you and Eamon skipped the proposal part and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>assumed</span>
  </em>
  <span> we were getting married!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well, in my defense I had no idea Eamon had done that,” Teagan sounded much more amused than in any way upset.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eamon thought you two would get </span>
  <em>
    <span>married</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Alistair was looking between Amelia and Teagan in confusion tinged with something else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alistair.  I can tell you the story if you like; I’m sure Amelia can point out if I’m mis-remembering something.”  Amelia was relieved that Teagan seemed to be thinking of the entire thing as a joke rather than an embarrassing fiasco.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!  I am DONE listening to these ridiculous shemlen romantic shenanigans that </span>
  <em>
    <span>will not kill an archdemon</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”  Theron crossed his arms in front of his chest and threw them apart to emphasize just how over everything he was.  “Girl!  Go outside and work on keeping these idiots from dying.  And if any of them try to argue with you, tell them if they DON’T listen, I will kill them before the undead get a chance to.”  He rounded on Alistair, “And as for you: stay… in… the… Chantry!  You and Girl are not allowed to be on the same side of that door for at least the rest of the night!”  He turned back to Amelia, “Well, Girl?  That rule applies to you too!  Out!”  He shoved one hand in Alistair’s face to block his view and pointed angrily at the door with the other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia rolled her eyes as Sten turned and started walking them towards it.  They both knew there was no dealing with Theron when he got like this.  There wasn’t much dealing with Theron most of the time, but when he was like this, there was nothing to be done until he saw something as having been accomplished.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She heard Theron call from over her shoulder, “And don’t go getting any funny ideas, Girl!  You may be useful and the only one of the idiots I’m stuck traveling with who’s actually contributed anything to this endeavor, but you’re still a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hostage</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I’m coming right out once I deal with King Idiot!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s King Idiot?”  she heard Alistair muse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That man really needed to learn to start thinking before he started talking.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Redcliffe Chantry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Teagan reminds Alistair of a part of his history with Amelia he'd forgotten about.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alistair tried to dodge around Theron’s hand and watch Sten carry Amelia out of the Chantry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d thought he may have managed it when the now familiar jab of an arrow being tapped against his face made him wince.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘WHO’S KING IDIOT’?!?  ARE YOU SERIOUS, ALISTAIR!  HOW MANY PEOPLE COULD THAT BE?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh…”  As far as Alistair was concerned, ‘King Idiot’ could describe an awful lot of people, starting with the shifty assassin Theron had decided to bring along (Alistair was willing to be blamed for an awful lot, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> letting Theron blame him for </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> one).  He was distracted by the loud ‘thud’ of the Chantry door closing behind Sten.  “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> she’ll be alright out there with him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That depends.”  Theron spoke through gritted teeth.  Alistair had a vague thought that he’d prefer Theron go back to shouting.  “If you’re wondering if she may be harmed somehow, no; I’m not at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> worried.  But if you’re wondering if she might ESCAPE with her PET QUNARI then </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes, I am very worried, and if she does, I’m feeding you to these undead</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  Fortunately you still have that horse she’s so attached to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no I don’t.  He’s in the square.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“WHY?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How was I going to get a horse into the Chantry?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron brandished the arrow again, “Stay.  Here!  You-” he pointed to Leliana, “Let’s go.  Where’s the pet assassin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran popped up from behind one of the pews.  Alistair decided he didn’t want to think about what the elf may have been doing beforehand, “I do not believe the </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span> sees me as anything nearly so delectable, however I am optimistic I may yet be able to persuade her to do so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You stay away from Girl too!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, with that attitude you will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> become one of her pets.”  Zevran crossed his arms and shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron snapped the arrow and tossed the broken ends on the floor and huffed off to the door.  “Useless assassin, useless Warden, useless distractions, hostage is the only one NOT useless,  Dread Wolf is responsible for this </span>
  <em>
    <span>somehow</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”  Leliana followed quickly after, likely not wanting to break her perfect streak of </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> ending up at the wrong end of the Dalish’s rants or arrows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as Theron was safely out of earshot, Teagan addressed him.  “Well, Alistair.  It’s nice to see you’re making friends.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who, </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”  Alistair pointed after Theron, “The one who keeps hitting me in the face with an arrow?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well, I agree with him that you do seem somewhat distracted.”  Alistair did not care in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>slightest</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the way Teagan was smiling at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll have you know I am not even </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking</span>
  </em>
  <span> about Amelia MacTir right now!  Besides, I don’t even like her!”  Alistair crossed his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know you will convince no one of either of those things if you keep bringing her into the conversation for no reason, yes?”  Zevran was smiling at him in a way Alistair did not care for either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have something sneaky and underhanded to get up to?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alas, no,” Zevran sighed, “I could hardly let it get around that I am willing to provide my assassination services for free and it appears that there is not a single trinket worth stealing in this entire country!  Well, there is perhaps one…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well, you just better keep away from her.”  Alistair narrowed his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elf grinned wider, “Why?  I thought you weren’t thinking about her and didn’t even like her.  Despite the fact that this is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>second</span>
  </em>
  <span> time you have brought her up in the conversation of your own accord.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alistair.  I must say I agree with your new friend here.”  Teagan had apparently decided to side with Zevran over Alistair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>assassin</span>
  </em>
  <span>?  Who tried to kill me?”  Alistair threw an arm in Zevran’s direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, pish.  Bygones, my friend.  Bygones.  You do not hear me going on about how you tried to kill </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, do you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In self-defense!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.  Bygones.”  Zevran tossed a hand over his shoulder before the grin Alistair didn’t like was back, “But I am sure your dear uncle is not interested in </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> sordid personal affairs.  I believe he would like to hear about you and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There isn’t anything to hear!  She’s Loghain’s daughter!”  Alistair glanced at the ground, “Andevenifsheweren’tshewon’teventalktome…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan shook his head, “Well, Alistair, for the part about her being Loghain’s daughter, you can’t exactly hold that against her.  She didn’t have any more of a say in who her father was than you did.  She’s a sweet girl, Alistair.  A bit shy, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> sheltered, but she doesn’t want to hurt a fly.  And if you’re worried that she’ll be loyal to her father, well…”  Teagan trailed off and frowned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well what?”  Alistair didn’t know what Teagan was stopping for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s probably not my place to say.  I’m not entirely sure what happened myself.  I just know that there’s something… strained between them.  It’s strange - when she was younger, he’d bring her everywhere with him - he never liked her being too far out of sight and was usually worried half to death she’d hurt herself somehow, but when she turned about twelve, he just… locked her away.  Didn’t let her outside Gwaren unless he was going to be in Denerim for an extended period of time, and never let her out of Fort Drakon while she was in the city - he wouldn’t even let her join us for dinner if Eamon or I were visiting Cailan and they were in town, although that may have been Eamon’s fault come to think of it - Loghain was </span>
  <em>
    <span>livid</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he figured out Eamon wanted us to get married, I’m pretty sure he suspected Eamon never gave the idea up.  And he might have been right.  Still, poor girl.  I saw her a few times and she just always seemed so… lost.  And alone.”  Teagan shook his head, “But like I said, I’m not quite sure what happened; anything more you’ll probably have to get out of her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told you she won’t talk to me!” Alistair protested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> what you told the ground in one breath before?”  Teagan crossed his arms at Alistair and was grinning again, “Well, it’s not surprising, the way you tortured her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did NOT torture her!  I questioned her, a bit, when she came out of the Wilds!  Because it was suspicious!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Interrogated,’ my friend.  Or at least, that is how she described the experience to me.”  Zevran had apparently decided to walk over to hear more of the conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be here?”  Alistair glared at the assassin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“According to your endlessly charming Grey Warden associate?  Yes, I do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Alistair, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span>?  You </span>
  <em>
    <span>interrogated</span>
  </em>
  <span> the girl?”  Teagan didn’t seem to care Zevran had joined the conversation without being invited.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She came wandering out of the Wilds!  Suspiciously!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>none</span>
  </em>
  <span> of you Grey Wardens know how to treat a woman?  I tell you what, my friend, for the low, low price of-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NO!”  Alistair couldn’t afford the low, low price of anything and even if he could, he didn’t want anything to do with whatever the elf may be selling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine.  I am not the one pining over a woman who will not speak to me.  In fact, as you may recall, the woman is perfectly willing to speak to me.  At great length.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have I told you lately I don’t like you very much?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are not talking about whether and how much you like me.  We are talking about just </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> how much you like the </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  He turned to Teagan, “And I for one am </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>interested to know about this torturing incident.  It sounds quite delightful.”  He sat back against a pew.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have never tortured anyone in my life!” Alistair declared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t leave the girl alone for a week, Alistair.  I think you two would have been about seven or eight at the time…”  Teagan was ignoring Zevran and speaking directly to Alistair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t even know any girls when I was seven!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you did make quite a show of insisting she was a ghost.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I - no!  </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> the ghost!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>the figment of her imagination.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair hadn’t thought about his ghost in years.  Teagan had the timing right, he’d been about seven or eight and his father and Cailan had come to visit Redcliffe, which meant he’d been under strict orders to stay away from both of them.  That meant spending his days in the castle and his nights in the servants’ quarters.  Usually there was nothing at all interesting to do while he was pretending not to exist, but that time they’d had other guests - a man Alistair now realized must have been Loghain and his two daughters.  The older one, Anora obviously, had either ignored him entirely or ordered him to fetch this or do that while sneering at him when she wasn’t off somewhere Alistair wasn’t allowed to have been.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the younger one, and Alistair was kicking himself for not realizing the resemblance to Amelia days ago, had spent the first several days of the visit not leaving her quarters.  He hadn’t understood why; </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t ordered to keep out of everyone’s sight.  He’d tried talking to her, but she just looked at him until he stopped and went right back to whatever book she’d been reading at the time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One day he’d gotten tired of her ignoring him so, being an angry seven or eight year old, he’d snatched the book away from her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!  That’s mine!  Give it back!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was taller than she was, so he had an easy time keeping it out of her reach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.  I want you to tell me why you’re ignoring me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not ignoring you!  I want my book back!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I give it back are you going to talk to me or are you going to go back to reading it?”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to talk to you; I want to read my book!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well then, I’m not giving it back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?”  She started to cry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair wasn’t quite sure what to do at that point.  He hadn’t meant to make her cry, he just wanted her to talk to him.  “Do you really want your book back?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” she was still crying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, then you’ll have to come and catch me.”  He turned and started running away from her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>fair</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you’re bigger and faster than me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not going to catch me if you don’t even try!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t you just give me my book?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glared at her.  Why was she </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> hung up on the stupid book?  It couldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> much more entertaining than him - it didn’t have any pictures or anything.  “Look, if you don’t come and try and catch me, I’m just going to go throw it in the lake!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> started following him, “I will unless you catch me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ran to the courtyard - Marik and Cailan were going hunting that day, so he’d be able to run across the bridge to the windmill and still be out of sight.  He looked back to make sure she was still following him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait!  My father says I’m not supposed to leave the castle!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you want your book, you’ll just have to come with me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop!  I’m going to get in trouble!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept running.  When he got to the windmill he hid behind some sheaves of wheat.  It took her about a minute to come back into view.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stood in the open yelling for him, “Where’d you go?  Come back and give me my book!”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then she started crying again.  He looked at the book in his hands.  He didn’t want her to </span>
  <em>
    <span>cry</span>
  </em>
  <span> about it, he just wanted her to </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk to him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  And she probably wouldn’t now even if he did give the stupid thing back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A new voice interrupted his thoughts, “AMELIA!  </span>
  <em>
    <span>There</span>
  </em>
  <span> you are!  Come here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man knelt in front of the girl and started examining her, “But he took my book!” she protested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amelia, no one took your book.  I’m sure you just put it down somewhere and forgot about it.”  He picked her up and started carrying her back to the castle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!  He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> take my book!  He said he’d throw it in the lake!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll look for your book back at the castle, Amelia.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But he took it, Father!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hush.  I promise we’ll find your book once we get back to the castle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man was taking the girl back the long way.  Fortunately Alistair knew a shortcut and if he ran he’d be able to put the book back in her room before either of them got anywhere near it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He met the girl in the hallway the next day.  She glared at him and closed her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’d’ya think you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not looking at you.  My father says you’re just a figment of my imagination, so I’m going to ignore you until you go away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair didn’t know what a ‘figment of the imagination’ was but he was positive he wasn’t one.  “Oh yeah, well… you’re… you’re… you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>ghost</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I’m not going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>let</span>
  </em>
  <span> you ignore me.  So there!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She opened her eyes and glared at him again, “If I’m a ghost, shouldn’t you want me ignoring you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You… don’t try to trick me by being all clever!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t do something stupid that’s going to get me in trouble with my father again!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You weren’t supposed to get in trouble with your father, you were just supposed to talk to me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to talk to you, I wanted my book!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s so great about that stupid book anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alistair!  Amelia!  What in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>world</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you shouting about?”  Teagan had obviously come to investigate what was going on in the hallway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pointed an accusatory finger at Alistair’s face, “He took my book!  And </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the one who got in trouble for it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan looked at Alistair and narrowed his eyes slightly, “Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> he?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t have had to take it if you’d just talked to me!  And she called me a fragrant of her imagination!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said you were a </span>
  <em>
    <span>figment</span>
  </em>
  <span> of my imagination!  And I didn’t even say it first, my father did when he was shouting at me for leaving the castle!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair pouted at the ground, “Didn’tmeantogetyouintrouble…”  He kept looking at the ground for a few moments.  He looked up when no one seemed to be addressing him anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan was kneeling in front of the girl, “I will tell your father what happened.  But don’t you think it might be fun to play with Alistair for a bit?  I know you don’t often get to spend time with other children your age.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> my books.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but you can read your books anytime.  Alistair doesn’t have anyone to play with either most of the time.  It’ll be good for both of you, just give it a chance.”  Teagan looked over at Alistair and glared, “And as for you, Alistair, </span>
  <em>
    <span>play nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I</span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>beingnice,shewastheonewhoignoredme…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was that?”  Teagan didn’t sound impressed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Uncle Teagan, I’ll play nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.  Now why don’t you show Amelia where the apple tree in the courtyard is?  Some of the apples looked fairly ripe this morning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like trees,” the girl looked at Teagan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why was she </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> paying attention to everything other than Alistair, “Why, because they’re not books yet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, because my father says I could fall out of one and break my neck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not going to happen!”  Alistair reached over and snatched the ribbon out of her hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My ribbon!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and if you want it back you’re just going to have to climb the tree with me to get it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took off running and she started chasing him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Teagan!  What in blazes is going on out here?  Why is my daughter running off after that urchin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Loghain.  They’re just kids being kids; he’s only looking for her attention.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> he?”  Loghain turned and glared after Alistair and Amelia.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come now, you don’t honestly think you can keep her away from boys forever?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can try.  Or if not, I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly</span>
  </em>
  <span> keep boys away from her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair, of course, had no recollection of the conversation that happened after he’d run off with Amelia’s ribbon.  But Teagan didn’t have any qualms of telling Zevran all about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, my friend!” the elf was grinning at him </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “Truly, this tale does just keep getting better!  A childhood crush, a chance meeting, a woeful series of miscommunications!  And now that the role of ‘handsome and mysterious rival for the affections of the fair maiden’ has been filled so brilliantly by yours truly, things are bound to start heating up!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you two quite done mocking me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alistair, we’re not mocking you -” Teagan started</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I may have been ever-so-</span>
  <em>
    <span>slightly</span>
  </em>
  <span> mocking him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair pointed at Zevran, but Teagan rolled his eyes and continued, “The point, Alistair, is that if you want a woman’s attention, you do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> go about getting it by stealing her books, or her ribbons, or her shoes, hairbrushes, cloaks, shawls, quills, or stuffed toys-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I gave them all back!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“OR interrogating her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh!  Did he mention he shoved her to the ground and almost broke her ankle?”  Zevran was grinning wider than he’d been all day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan snapped his gaze back to Alistair.  “That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> what happened!  I didn’t know her ankle was hurt, she didn’t tell anyone, and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>accidentally</span>
  </em>
  <span> pulledherdownahillandpulledthebootoffandwecouldn’tgetitbackon.  But I gave her my tent!”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The way she tells it, you threw it at her face, my friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… well… that’s…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan shook his head, “Alistair, if you want her attention you need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk with her</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  And not in one word to the ground!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I…”  Alistair scuffed a foot along the ground.  “She’s Loghain’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>daughter</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Teagan.  She’s nobility; a Lady.  And I’m just-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re Marik’s son and likely have the best claim to the throne in the kingdom.  She is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> ‘out of your league,’ or whatever that phrase is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh!  Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> the secret you are so desperate to keep from her!  You may not know this, Teagan, but most of his interrogation of </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span> concerned the subject of her father.  And she said before we came into the village that she does not know who his is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will you </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay out of this</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”  Alistair glared at Zevran before turning back to Teagan.  “And who even says I want her attention anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan and Zevran looked at each other.  Zevran motioned for Teagan to respond, “YOU do, Alistair.  Everything about the way you act around her practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>screams</span>
  </em>
  <span> you want her attention!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> know that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because you keep doing idiotic things with her, like interrogating her and keeping secrets!  Now, I know you didn’t ask for my advice, but you’re going to get it anyway - the next time you have a chance to - without having to worry about the elf with the arrows - </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk to her</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What am I supposed to say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if I were you I’d start with ‘I’m sorry, I’ve been an idiot, and if you are willing to do me an </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely gracious favor,</span>
  </em>
  <span> there are some things I want to tell you.’”  Teagan crossed his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alistair would have no problem with ‘I’ve been an idiot,’ he was usually an idiot, and Amelia was definitely clever enough to have figured that out by now.  The ‘I’m sorry’ bit would take some work to say to her rather than the ground.  It was the last part that made him so nervous.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to @blondetexan and @xqueen0fhellx for betaing!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Redcliffe Village</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Redcliffe braces for the undead attack and its aftermath (also Theron continues to be over his companions).</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on tumblr at fairfaxleasee.tumblr.com</p><p>Thanks to blondetexan and xqueen0fhellx for betaing</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Alright, so long as no one does anything stupid, no one has to get hurt!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know hitting people with arrows hurts them, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia sighed to herself as she watched Theron smack Alistair in the face with an arrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“YOU ONLY GET HIT WITH THE ARROW IF YOU’RE BEING STUPID, KING IDIOT!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For his part, Alistair tried to dodge, but that only seemed to make the Dalish angrier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Girl!  Don’t you get any funny ideas about running away with your Pet Qunari!  OR distracting King Idiot more than you already do.”  Theron motioned for Alistair to keep still and slowly backed down the Chantry steps until he was about midway between where Alistair was standing and Sten still had Amelia slung over his shoulder.  Amelia had done what she could to try to shore up the village’s defenses (even if most of the plan seemed to rest on “assume Grey Wardens were at least as good at killing undead as they were Darkspawn”) and as she would just be in the way when the fighting got started (and she couldn’t be Theron’s hostage if she were dead), she was supposed to spend the rest of the night in the Chantry.  Which shouldn’t have been an issue, but Theron seemed to think she and Alistair couldn’t be trusted to get within three feet of each other, and was trying to figure out a way to keep them apart while Alistair left the Chantry to fight the undead as Amelia went into the Chantry to hide from the undead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I could, perhaps be of assistance?” Zevran smiled as he leaned towards Theron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No one asked you, Pet Assassin!” Theron stopped swinging his arrow at Alistair and aimed it for Zevran’s face instead.  “Now, King Idiot, you get on that first step then walk all the way to the end.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do I </span>
  <em>
    <span>ha</span>
  </em>
  <span>- OUCH!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“YES, YOU DO!”  Theron kept the arrow pointed at Alistair as he backed towards the far end of the step.  “Now you, Girl; go to the bottom of the other side of the stairs!  Or Pet Qunari, whoever’s doing the walking.”  When Sten was in position Theron swung his head to look between them.  “Alright, now here’s how this is going to go: you take one stair at a time, and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> look at each other and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> talk to each other and Pet Assassin, you come out here now and stand by King Idiot!  You’re staying away from Girl, too!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran crossed his arms and muttered, “Why must </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> stay away from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span>?  </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am not distracted from my duties to slay an Archdemon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re alive because you said you’d help us do that!  But if you want to change your mind about that offer…” Theron notched the arrow he’d been brandishing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are so </span>
  <em>
    <span>finicky</span>
  </em>
  <span> my Dalish friend!” Zevran said as he raised his hands and backed towards Alistair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron kept looking between Amelia and Sten going up the stairs and Alistair and Zevran going down them.  Once there were no more stairs, Theron motioned for them to stop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, King Idiot and Pet Assassin, go up to the top of the hill!”  Alistair and Zevran hesitated until Theron shot his arrow at their feet.  Once they were around the bend in the road, Theron turned towards Amelia and Sten.  “Alright, Pet Qunari - drop her in the Chantry, then you’re coming with us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am unsure what the failed assassin meant by ‘finicky’, but I believe it describes the other elf perfectly,” Sten muttered as he set Amelia down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...thank you, Sten,” Amelia didn’t like having to be carried, but her ankle would have liked her walking less.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For carrying me since I can’t walk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your companions are at fault for the state of your ankle.  It is they who should be thanking me.”  Amelia raised her eyebrow and glanced around Sten at Theron who was tapping a foot on the ground while twirling another arrow in one hand.  Sten followed her gaze and added, “Although that seems unlikely to happen any time soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sten walked down the Chantry steps and Amelia hobbled far enough inside the building for some of the villagers to close the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan approached her and asked, “Has he </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> been like that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which one?” Amelia replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan laughed quietly and shook his head, “Well, I was wondering about the Dalish Warden, but now that you mention it…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m just the hostage, so he never really talks to me much, but I think Theron’s gotten worse the longer he has to be around everyone else.  I’m honestly a bit surprised he hasn’t just gone wandering off somewhere to look for the Archdemon himself, if for no other reason than to get away from Alistair and Zevran, who seem to particularly annoy him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They do seem to get hit with more arrows than anyone else.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, it’s always mostly been Alistair.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, speaking of Alistair…” Amelia pursed her lips as Teagan grinned at her.  “Oh, Maker’s breath, don’t tell me he’s done something </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That depends, which stupid things have you heard about already?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s see, aside from his string of thefts when you were children-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What string of thefts?  I didn’t know Alistair when we were children.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you kept insisting he was a figment of your imagination.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one who stole my book?  And my ribbon, and…” Amelia rifled through her memories for what </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Redcliffe stable boy had stolen from her all those years ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan didn’t wait for her to finish, “Yes, he’s the one.  He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> give them all back, didn’t he?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think so…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.  The boy’s dug himself a deep enough hole.  Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> the interrogation, almost breaking your ankle, and throwing a tent at your face didn’t help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” she crossed her arms, “They didn’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But if he’s done anything else you want me to remind him to apologize for-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He hasn’t apologized for </span>
  <em>
    <span>those</span>
  </em>
  <span> yet!  And I’m not counting the time he mumbled it in one word to the ground!  And as for anything else…” Amelia saw the woman from the ambush kissing Alistair in her mind’s eye.  She scowled and looked away from Teagan, “No.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah.  So that bad?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said that it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not that it was bad!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm…” Amelia did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> care for the way Teagan was grinning at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And even if it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> something, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> a hostage!  And I don’t even know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m a hostage!  Well, given that my father sent the assassin that’s got </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do with it, but still.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, so you don’t know what’s happened?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!  My father sent me to Lothering almost as soon as I got to Ostagar.  Well, he did spend some time I imagine shouting at Cailan for calling me down there while I was waiting in his tent, but he sent me to Lothering in less than ten minutes of coming back to the tent to be cross at me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah.  Well, I’m not sure I should be the one to tell you…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t, if Theron figures out you told me, we’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> be in for it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I agree with that assessment.  But here, let’s go sit down.  Unfortunately there’s no more bandages, so I’m afraid you’ll have to make due for a bit longer.  But you can tell me what you’ve been up to since your coming-of-age.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-” Amelia considered.  It had been years.  She must have been up to </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> worth talking about.  “I’ve got a new horse.  And I visited Ostagar.  And… I’ve tried to keep busy…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It sounds as though you’ve had a good deal of time in which to keep busy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to tell me what you’ve done?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> care about what I’ve done?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ve got to give Alistair </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> he can talk with you about that won’t have him muttering at the ground too fast to understand a word of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think my archiving, cartography, and bookbinding will work for that.   ...Not that I want him to talk with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course not.”  Teagan’s face was entirely unconvinced.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They didn’t have much time to speak about anything before the sounds of battle outside the Chantry distracted everyone.  Fortunately, between the assistance of Amelia’s traveling companions and the last-minute preparations Amelia had suggested, the Redcliffe militia managed to push back the undead army with only minor casualties (although what the large man she thought she recognized from the bar in the apron - but no armor - had been doing fighting with what appeared to be a fruit knife, Amelia didn’t know).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they had a chance to survey the damage, Teagan had called everyone up to the windmill (well, possibly everyone other than Amelia, but Theron wasn’t willing to let her out of his sight again, just in case she ‘got it in her head to make ANOTHER deal with some drunk shemlen to find lost daughters, AND YOU STAY OUT OF THIS, PET ASSASSIN!’) to discuss what to do next.  They hadn’t gotten very far (and not just because Theron kept interrupting to hit Alistair with an arrow whenever he decided the man was getting too focused on Amelia) when they were interrupted by a woman Amelia didn’t recognize.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Teagan!” the odd emphasis the woman put on the first part of the name identified her as Orlesian.  “And… Alistair.  Of all the…”  The woman stopped glaring at Alistair when she spotted Amelia and glared even harder at her.  “Who is this </span>
  <em>
    <span>woman</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Teagan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan sighed and put his fingers to his temple, “Isolde, this is Lady Amelia-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>fiance</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said you turned him down!” Alistair protested to Amelia.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia doubted Alistair heard her over Theron, “FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, KING IDIOT!  FOCUS… ON… WHAT… WE’RE… DOING… AND… NOT… GIRL!  And </span>
  <em>
    <span>YOU</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” he rounded on Isolde, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You started this!</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Now, unless you’re going to help us kill the Archdemon, get back to where You came from!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be ordered by an elf in my own village!” Isolde looked horrified.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so You’d prefer an arrow to the face?”  Theron apparently decided Isolde was annoying enough to just shoot and not hit with the arrow first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Isolde, Theron, let’s just calm down and discuss-” Teagan started.  He flinched when Theron shifted his bow to aim at Teagan rather than Isolde.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isolde, it seemed, had even less interest in calming down and no concept that Theron could just shoot her </span>
  <em>
    <span>after</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d shot Teagan.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Teagan, please</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  You must come up to the castle!  Connor needs your help and Eamon hasn’t woken in days!  The mage, he’s an assassin-” at that word Theron threw down his bow and snapped the arrow he’d had notched in half in frustration.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is a mage doing in Redcliffe Castle?  Isolde, just what </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> is going on?  Have you been up at the castle all this time?  How are you still alive?”  Teagan kept asking perfectly reasonable questions and Isolde got more and more uncomfortable and evasive.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally she cut him off, “If you want to know what’s been happening at the castle, Teagan, ask your little tramp-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron tried to stalk over to Isolde before Teagan pushed Alistair into his path.  That may have stopped him from throttling the woman, but it didn’t stop him from shouting, “No!  Pet Assassin does NOT need to be involved in this conversation!  YOU STAY OUT OF THIS, PET ASSASSIN!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I must stay out of this, what-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron took an arrow out of his quiver and threw it at Zevran.  For his part, Zevran seemed to have thought better of provoking Theron and raised his hands as he backed away.  Once Theron was convinced Zevran was going to keep quiet, he rounded back at Isolde and shouted, “You stop making things worse!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isolde didn’t seem to realize quite how much Theron wanted to shoot someone and replied, “This is all the tramp's father's fault!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron flinched as he shouted, “Oh, no!  If I have to deal with Pet Assassin's father, I QUIT!  The Blight can win for all I care!  I am NOT meeting Pet Assassin's father!”  Zevran started flailing his arms wildly in a bid for Theron’s attention.  After a few seconds Theron finally gave in and let out an exasperated, “WHAT?!?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran cleared his throat, “I am not sure who my father is.  So, while it is possible you have already met him-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron glared at Isolde, “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had nothing to do with this, elf!  It was all </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Isolde finally bothered to point at Amelia (which would have solved this whole thing much quicker if she’d done that before), “Father’s doing!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Girl!  Why can’t your father seem to hire a competent assassin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How exactly do you expect me to answer that question?  I didn’t know he’d hired </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> assassins.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or</span>
  </em>
  <span> why he would need them!” Amelia shook her head slightly at the absurdity of the conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.  Right.  I won’t tell you what happened, will I?  And no one else is allowed to either!” Theron pointed in a half circle at everyone else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Because I said so and you won’t listen to me about anything else, that’s WHY, King Idiot</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia decided to ignore Theron as best she could.  Nothing was going to happen until the Dalish calmed down.  She turned her head to see Isolde tugging at Teagan, likely trying to get him to follow her up to the castle.  Much as Amelia didn’t want Theron focused on her, she didn’t want to think about what they’d be in for if he realized Isolde and Teagan had gone wandering off.  She turned back towards Theron, “Uh, Theron?  Is he meant to be your hostage too?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, Girl?  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you’re still a hostage!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, him,” she pointed to Teagan.  Isolde was tugging at him harder, but Teagan seemed to have no interest in going with her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“YOU!  Who told you You could leave!  You don’t move!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the fact Theron was the one yelling at her, Isolde chose to scowl at Amelia.  Teagan used the distraction to shake himself loose from Isolde and walk towards the group, “Isolde, I need to discuss this with my associates-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She is your </span>
  <em>
    <span>associate</span>
  </em>
  <span> now, Teagan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teagan waved Isolde off and motioned for Amelia’s companions (which included Amelia because she was back to being carried around by Sten) to follow him to the windmill.  Once they were far enough away from Isolde, he whispered, “Isolde says she wants me to go back to the castle with her.  She seems to think that I’ll be safe as long as I return with her, alone.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I am well aware it’s a trap.  I’m still not sure what she’s talking about with this mage and why she seems convinced he’s one of Loghain’s assassins-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now, </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> indeed another one of your esteemed father’s assassins, please remember I found you first.  And I am ever so charming!”  Zevran leaned up whisper as he grinned at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you two talking about over there?” Alistair narrowed his eyes at them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Leave!  Girl!  Alone!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you heard our Dalish taskmaster,” Zevran shifted his grin to Alistair.  “I am having a perfectly lovely conversation with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolina gazza</span>
  </em>
  <span>-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron stalked over and grabbed Zevran’s armor so he could toss him away from Amelia.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>BOTH</span>
  </em>
  <span> of you leave Girl alone!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sound just like her father!” Zevran crossed his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what?  Maybe I should just work with </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> instead of you!  Maybe if I did </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’d actually get to kill the stupid Archdemon!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just all focus on the task at hand,” Teagan looked slightly nervous about interrupting Theron.  “Here, take this key.  It will unlock a secret passage under the windmill.  You can sneak into the castle and I’ll see what I can find out before we meet in there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“TEAGAN!  What is taking so long!  We must return quickly!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Isolde!  I’m coming!”  He turned back to the group, “Maker watch over us all, my friends.  I expect we’ll need it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia watched Teagan disappear with Isolde in the direction of the castle.  She turned back to find Theron staring at the key Teagan had put in his hand as though hoping he could set the thing on fire with his glare.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually Alistair risked, “Uh… so, Theron?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I know, King Idiot!  I can’t leave You alone for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>second</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  You’s just going to go make everything worse!”  He set about trying to find the passage the key unlocked as he kept muttering his questions about just how exactly shem nobles who, with the singular exception of Amelia, were the stupidest group of people he’d come across had managed to defeat the Dalish.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They didn’t meet any resistance until they reached the castle itself.  Amelia had never seen an undead before and she concluded extremely quickly that she did not care at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the creatures, or their smell.  She also did not care for the mage they met in the dungeon who claimed to be another assassin sent by her father, even if the man did allow her to gain a bit of favor with Theron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sten had set her down to fight the undead and Zevran and Alistair decided Theron was just getting in the way of getting any actual information out of the mage about just what was going on, so Theron had been pacing near Amelia.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So I still have no idea why he needs them </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> why he’s sending them after who he’s sending them after, but I do agree that my father’s choice in assassins does leave something to be desired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia started when Theron clasped her shoulders, “Thank you, Girl!  You are the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> useful one!  Do not stop being the only useful one!  King Idiot is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> worth risking being the only useful one, no matter </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>he tries to offer you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What exactly can Alistair offer me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you two</span>
  </em>
  <span> talking about over there?”  The rest of the group had obviously finished with the mage because Alistair’s full focus was on Amelia and Theron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“GIRL CAN DO BETTER, THAT’S WHAT WE’RE TALKING ABOUT!  Now, unless we’re killing Worse Assassin, we’re going to move on and get this stupid errand over with!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you want to know what he said?”  Alistair was slightly incredulous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s all his and You’s fault and he’s just as worthless a moron as I assumed?”  Theron tapped his foot impatiently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Pashaarah</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  Let us deal with the undead first.  Then we may decide the fate of the mages.”  Sten strode over to pick Amelia up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mages?” she asked as she was slung over his shoulder again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The arl’s son.  The foolish woman wished to keep him out of your Circle.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the result.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, You is going to GET it when I get my hands on-”  Theron tore out of the dungeon in search of whatever he was angry at </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> time.  The rest of the party followed in his wake; Amelia was surprised that just arrows could be so effective at re-killing undead, although with the number of arrows perforating the creatures she possibly should have been more surprised that Theron had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>carrying</span>
  </em>
  <span> that many arrows.  Eventually they caught up to the elf trying to force open a door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come out of there right now, you idiot shem!  Undead don’t talk!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A female voice from behind the door responded, “You may not be undead, but I don’t trust you not to kill me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wise woman,” Sten muttered just loud enough for Amelia to hear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will if you don’t come out!”  Theron began jabbing an arrow in the keyhole.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> if I don’t come out!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>come out</span>
  </em>
  <span> and you can leave the stupid castle, shem!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I may,” Zevran dodged as Theron swung the arrow in an arc towards his face, “I have much experience talking my way into women’s rooms, and you are doing it all wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, Pet Assassin!  You get the shem out!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zevran dodged the arrow again and knocked softly on the door, “My dear, allow me to apologize for the uncouth behavior of my associate.  I can assure you, he is similarly indisposed towards everyone.  I do, however, believe he has a point in that it would be beneficial for you to make your escape from this place while you can.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… do I have anywhere to go?  Is there even still a village?  What about my father?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would depend, who is your father?” Zevran replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, at least that question was being asked of someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>other than </span>
  </em>
  <span>Amelia.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s the village blacksmith.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes.  He was quite concerned about your well-being.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> that other one isn’t going to kill me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My dear Warden, would you please assure our prudently concerned friend that you will not harm a hair on her head?”  Zevran bowed dramatically to offer Theron his place and stepped back from the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Theron grit his teeth and growled but stepped into the spot Zevran had vacated, “Fine.  I won’t hurt you, shem.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or threaten her with an arrow,” Zevran promoted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...or threaten you with an arrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or raise your voice at her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...or raise my voice at her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door opened to reveal a frightened woman somewhere near Amelia’s age.  Theron looked around her into the room.  “Say, shem - how long have you been hiding in there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t - since the undead first started attacking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh.  Good to know.”  Theron examined the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So… I can go now?” the woman looked around slightly confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, if you go down that hallway to the dungeon, there’s a passage that’ll take you back to the village,” Alistair gestured in the direction they’d come from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you!” the woman ran off without further prompting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Pet Qunari, we’re leaving Girl in here.”  Theron pointed to the now empty room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia’s eyes widened as she understood Theron’s plan.  “Hey!  You’re just going to leave me here?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll come back for you once we deal with whatever stupid mess You made.  You’ll be fine in there and you’re smart enough not to try to outrun the undead on that ankle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amelia crossed her arms as Sten deposited her in the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re just going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave</span>
  </em>
  <span> her there?” Alistair sounded about as unhappy as Amelia was at the plan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we are, King Idiot!  Without Girl distracting you, you just MIGHT be able to contribute </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> to this stupid distraction </span>
  <em>
    <span>that was all your fault in the first place, now come along</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”  Theron slammed the door shut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She thought she might have heard someone move something heavy in front of the door, but Theron was right and Amelia had no desire to try and outrun anything, let alone undead.  So she sat down and tried to put her years of practice being locked in rooms to some use.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Apologies this chapter took me so long!  I will try to update this at least once a month from now on!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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